


Charmed Occasions

by sarahreads



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cults, Jewelry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:46:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahreads/pseuds/sarahreads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry opens a shop and Draco finds himself utterly charmed. Harry makes a tree with a mind of its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed Occasions

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta-reader Firethesound, who always makes me better no matter the occasion.

The shop was quiet and clean and more spacious on the inside than it appeared on the outside. The glass display cases were spread out and spot-lighted, and there were mirrors hanging on the walls nearby reflecting plenty of light around the room. The floors were made with light-colored wood and covered by high-end reed mats and the front shop windows provided a colored glow from the stained glass squares that blended with the light filtered into the room from the huge faceted skylights above. There were sectioned off gardens in the room with bamboo plants and small neatly trimmed trees surrounded with small stones and moss and other small sunken gardens made of rocks and sand. A large sandy area was still cordoned off in the center of the shop waiting for something to fill it. The entire space radiated deep tranquility.

Harry Potter admitted it was beautiful. “Luna, it’s perfect.” He breathed in, feeling more relaxed than he could remember. “It really feels like Charmed Occasions now.”

Luna Lovegood smiled absently. “Thank you, Harry. There’s a sprite in the pond. I didn’t have the heart to remove it but I felt like it belongs here.”

Harry was pleased to hear it. He found he always enjoyed company, no matter how unusual. “That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll get along. Do you want some tea?”

Luna nodded so Harry took her to the backroom of his shop into the area he’d used for years as his work room. Unlike the peaceful shop, Harry’s work space defined chaos with design parchments, metal shavings, precious gems, a glass-blowing kiln, welding gear, a small forge, and all the tools of his jewelry trade. His potions lab was separated into another blocked off room that had so many protective spells the wards glowed and next to the door leading to his upstairs loft was another thick metal door to his vault.

He put the kettle on the small stove in the corner and placed the mismatched tea cups on the scratched and dented table with a bowl of sugar and milk from the small fridge covered in toddler doodles. Luna took a precarious seat on one of the padded wooden stools, gazing around with appreciative eyes.

“I like this room, Harry. It has a lot of energy.”

Harry grinned and poured the tea into her cup. “I should hope so. A lot happens back here.”

“When are you opening?” Luna dropped a full handful of sugar cubes into her cup and stirred. Harry’s brow raised as the tea level rose noticeably to the edge of the cup.  
He poured his own tea and splashed some milk and the remaining cube of sugar into it. “One week for the start of the new year. I have to finish the showpiece for the main display and I want to make some extra pieces for the stock room. I’ve enough commissions to keep busy with for a couple of months if things start off slow but it will be nice to sell some of my own projects I’ve got finished.” 

He snapped his fingers. “Oh, I have something for you,” he said, rising from the stool. He disappeared into the vault and came out with a wrapped box. “The wrapping spell is something Hermione taught me. It was an absolute beast to learn but I think it was worth it.” He handed Luna the long box and sat down nervously.

Luna pushed her blond hair behind her ears and then unwrapped the box carefully, folding the wrapping paper before placing it to the side. The box was a work of art, gleaming dark wood with a rich intoxicating scent and covered in intricate carvings. Harry didn’t make many of them but he knew his friends enjoyed them. “Thank you, Harry!” She smiled, obviously pleased. 

“There’s something inside,” Harry prodded.

Luna nodded seriously and opened the lid, revealing a simple rose-tinged silver and ruby set of dangling earrings, a matching necklace, and ring. Luna looked surprised which made Harry feel absurdly pleased. It was always a challenge to surprise her. “These are beautiful.” 

“It’s, well, a thank you. For helping with the shop design.” Harry blushed. “And, you know, always finding my Nargles.”

Luna’s laugh was musical. “I will wear them on Sunday. Thank you,” Luna told him, referring to her upcoming wedding to Rolf Scamander. She studied them critically. “You put your spells on these.”

Harry nodded, taking a sip from his cooling tea. “Yes. Each piece does something a little different, but together they work best.” He pointed to the earrings. “The one that curls is for sight. It will make your vision sharper and your mind more receptive to what you’re seeing. So when you go on your expeditions you should be able to see the auras of the creatures you encounter, even if you can’t see them precisely.” He pointed to the other. “This one spirals to give you more focus. It should help with casting spells, but it will help with studying also if that’s what you prefer.”

Luna tapped the necklace. “It glows.” 

“The star ruby is the focus in the necklace but the spell is in the silver. It’s a protective charm. It will surround you if anything harmful or malicious is directed your way.” Harry smiled. “The ring is similar. It contains a healing charm, so if you are injured or ill it will activate. You can also link the ruby in the stone to St. Mungo’s or another clinic so it will act as a portkey, but it will need to be renewed after each use.”

Luna was speechless. She lowered the box, utterly seriously. “This is quite a gift, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “I made similar gifts for Hermione and Ginny as well when they got married. I’ve had some practice since,” he admitted, smiling at her fondly.

Luna leaned forward and kissed his cheek, ruffling his hair fondly. “You will be fine.” She closed the box and slipped it into her robe pocket.

They chatted for awhile longer until the tea was gone and then Luna took the Floo home. Harry cleaned up and then began working more on his showpiece. It wasn’t jewelry, really, but an artistic combination of all his favorite mediums. There were curved branches, hanging gems and jewels, curling silver, steel and gold vines and green tinted bronze and copper pieces shaped like leaves. Each facet of the tree showed off something new to see. Harry had told the truth to Luna, it was almost finished, but the spells he still needed to imbue in the piece would take most of his attention for the next week.

He heard a knock on the shop’s front door and considered ignoring it but curiosity won out. He put down his tools and walked across the shop floor, noticing in one of the mirrors he was smiling peacefully by the time he reached the door. Perhaps the Tranquility Charm Luna had used was a tad too strong. He’d tinker with it tomorrow.

He opened the door and blinked. “Malfoy?” He shivered as the cold January wind blew inside.

Draco Malfoy looked much the same as he had the last time Harry had seen him at the war trials eight years prior. Healthier, certainly, and still handsome in that untouchable way with his gleaming silver-blond hair and sharp grey eyes. Still pointy, but it suited him better with age. His dark blue winter cloak looked to be high quality and enticingly soft, and Harry could see the grey suit cut in high wizard style looked just as expensive. It was going on almost eleven years since the war ended, but Harry was still surprised to find he felt no animosity for the man before him.

Malfoy raised one superior eyebrow so slowly he looked disconcertingly like Lucius for a moment. “May I come in?” He asked slowly and expectantly.

Harry coughed into his hand to clear his throat. “Not open yet, Malfoy. Another week I should think.”

“It’s a commission.”

Harry blinked, still somewhat astonished. He’d been taking commissions for a few years but mostly for friends and family and few well-known acquaintances. Malfoy didn’t fall under any of those categories. “Oh. Well...I suppose.” He opened the door, directing Malfoy towards a well-lit corner by the stained glass window Harry had created for the shop. Luna had designed it as a consulting corner, placing deep cushioned chairs and a plush loveseat there with an elegant table created from a recycled tree stump. There was a small fountain nearby that filtered into the pond containing the vagabond sprite. Harry could see her aura slumbering under the waterfern. 

Malfoy followed him, not bothering to hide his admiration of the space. “Well done,” he said as he removed his heavy cloak. “Luna’s work?”

Harry nodded, smiling proudly. “She just finished this morning.” He cast a quick warming charm to dispel the cold that now lingered in the air.

“I can feel her touch in the magic and design. She worked on our solarium and a few other of our...darker...rooms. They are now some of my most favorite parts of the manor.”

Harry locked the front door with the flick of his wand. “Feel free to look around. I’m just going to grab my notebook.” Harry was completely baffled by Malfoy’s presence in his space, but he was more astonished by Malfoy’s ease and friendliness than anything. Still, their feud was a long time past and if Malfoy wanted to move on Harry was more than willing. He set the water to boil again and set up the tea tray while he gathered his papers and portfolio.

He returned to find Malfoy staring at one of his odder artistic pieces of a little child dwarf from a Muggle story; one of Harry’s early attempts to work with clay. It had wide eyes filling its small face that seemed to pierce a person’s wards and an inviting, mischievous smile. He’d dyed the clay to make the coloring more permanent and its clothing looked like real cloth. It was spelled, like most of Harry’s work, with a charm to uncover deception. Even Harry’s invisibility cloak wouldn’t work around it.

“That’s Watcher,” Harry joked, letting Luna’s Tranquility Charm put him at ease around his former childhood nemesis. Maybe it was a result of the trials, or maybe it was just growing older, but Harry thought it might be Malfoy’s smile. Harry tried to remember if he’d ever seen it before, but all he could picture were Malfoy’s sneers on a much younger face. The smile suited him better.

Malfoy blinked, his face carefully blank. “It’s...interesting,” he commented eventually. He shifted, his face crinkling up slightly with disturbance. “It feels like its eyes follow you.”

“They do,” Harry told him, carefully keeping his amusement off his face when Malfoy shuddered.

“Shall we take a seat? Tea?” Harry offered, sitting in his favorite chair. Malfoy nodded, appearing grateful to look away from the dwarf, and sunk into the forest green chair beside him with a choked off cry of surprised when the chair swallowed him. Potter ignored him and murmured a hospitality spell he’d worked on and hoped it didn’t turn into a catastrophe.

The tea tray floated through the air and settled on the table, shaking only slightly. Harry watched carefully as the teapot poured two cups of tea and settled back into place. He relaxed, pleased that it worked and grateful for the opportunity to impress. “Sugar, milk?”

Malfoy struggled to pull himself closer to the edge of the chair. “Uh, two lumps please. Splash of milk.” He pushed up again and realized it was futile, sinking back into the cushions.

Harry took care of it and handed Malfoy his cup before fixing his own. “So, how can I help you?”

Malfoy sighed. “I heard about your work from Luna actually, and you are aware I work with Weasley-Granger? And then you apparently sold a piece to Theodore Nott who gifted it to his wife, Pansy, who of course had to show it off to me.” Harry nodded, inviting Malfoy to continue. “My wife,” he coughed and his eyes looked away. “Astoria Greengrass,” he clarified as though Harry had never picked up a paper in his life, “is divorcing me.”

Harry almost spilled his tea. That wasn’t in the papers. “Oh,” he said when he realized Malfoy waited for a response. When Malfoy still didn’t say anything Harry decided to prod him. “You want a piece for her?” Seemed like a strange idea but Harry thought most of the things Malfoy did were strange. For all he knew it could be a Pureblood custom.

Malfoy laughed and his whole face transformed. Beautiful, Harry thought, closing his mouth. Malfoy wiped his eyes with his finger, still chuckling. “Oh, Merlin, no. It’s for my son.”

Harry put his tea down and picked up his pad and quill. Not that he felt the situation was any clearer but he supposed it didn’t matter. “Describe what you’re looking for, anything at all from how you see your son to anything specific you would like in the piece.”

Malfoy leaned back and startled when the chair surrounded him again. “Potter, these chairs are ridiculous.” He scowled and shifted, sinking further.

Harry shrugged. “They’re supposed to become what the customer needs most. You must need to relax more.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and poked the chair. “I will do so, later, at home. Honestly, who relaxes in public?”

Harry thought he felt the chair sulk a little but it did firm up a bit.

“My son is my world, Potter,” Malfoy stated, petting the chair appreciatively in reward. It quivered with pride. “He is precious in a way I never thought I’d feel about anything, more important than my name, my wealth, and my pride.” He fiddled with his signet ring. “He is quiet like a leopard, preferring to watch the world before interacting with it. He reads more than Granger ever could. He is also mute.” Malfoy looked at Potter now, judging him to comment.

Harry wrote all that down. “What else?”

Malfoy released the breath he’d been holding. “My son has always had Astoria nearby, and if not my wife than my mother. But Astoria is leaving me and Scorpius, my mother is ill, and I’m worried about how Scorpius will handle the changes.”

“How so?” Harry asked, still taking notes. He kept his eyes down, judging Malfoy felt more comfortable speaking when Harry wasn’t looking directly at him. 

“He’s seven now and he already gets into constant trouble. I just worry that something will happen. He goes into the woods or disappears in the Manor spending hours alone.” Malfoy sighed and rubbed his face. “The few times I’ve taken him to Diagon Alley have been a disaster. He gets constantly pushed around and shoved and he’s been injured more than once. He can hear just fine, but he refuses to look at people, he hates to be touched, and since he doesn’t speak he can’t warn people he’s there. When he gets overwhelmed he hides and when he’s hurt he can’t call out for help.” Malfoy paused. “And-”

Harry looked up. “And?” Harry noted how different Malfoy appeared in that moment from his father. Where Lucius Malfoy had obviously loved his son, he had not been an expressive man. Draco Malfoy shared no such reservations and his adoration for Scorpius and the pain he felt for his son were clear on his face for all to see.

Malfoy shook his head. “There have been threats recently. Against my family. The Aurors said to ignore them, but while I can afford to ignore the ones against myself, and my mother can certainly handle herself just fine no matter how ill she gets, I cannot afford to ignore any threat to my son.” 

“So you’re looking for a protective charm? Or something to help Scorpius have warning when he’s in danger or to alert you?” Potter asked, already making a list of potential spells.

“I wish my son did not have this challenge in life, but since he does I wish to make his life as easy I can. Perhaps something to help him feel calmer when he gets overly anxious? Or something to alert people if he’s injured?” Malfoy looked at Harry hopefully, leaning forward. “Something defensive or a mild repulsion charm of a sort to give him time to react before something reaches him? Or maybe an offensive spell or curse if someone attacks him.”

“How does he communicate?” Harry asked, still jotting down Malfoy’s comments. He ignored Malfoy’s comment about offensive magic. “And how will he handle magic? Later?”

“When I discovered there was something wrong I hired a nurse to help us though she married and moved away a couple of years ago. She taught myself and my mother something the Muggles use called Sign Language. We’ve had to adjust it, of course, to incorporate wizard words but we’ve worked with Scorpius from the time he was a toddler so that he could speak to us.” Malfoy smiled fondly. “He’s brilliant really. He’s at a special school where there are other children who use it and it’s helped tremendously.”

“What happens when he gets older?” Harry asked, lowering his notebook. He’d noticed Malfoy had made no mention of his wife learning the language. He didn’t pry though. “Will he go to Hogwarts?”

Malfoy nodded. “I’ve been in communication with Headmaster McGonagall for years in preparation. She’s been working with some of the professors to learn the skill. And he can write of course. Magic is trickier since he can’t speak the spells, but he often manages to cast spells soundlessly and even occasionally wandless. I think he feels his way through the spells. Or at least, that’s how he described it. I considered just keeping him home and getting him tutors but he’ll get bored too quickly.” Malfoy made a face. Scorpius was obviously a handful when bored.

Harry made a note to himself to pick up some books on the topic. “I can’t create anything jewelry-wise to speak for him but I can think of some things that might help him in other ways. Maybe a charmed quill of some sort or a mirror. I’ll think on it. As for the other spells, did you have a preference for jewelry?” Harry asked. “And a picture of your son? I don’t want to make anything unsuitable.”

Malfoy nodded and took out a small picture. Harry smiled, amused that Scorpius looked just like a smaller Malfoy without the smirk, before returning it. “I’m not particular about gems or metals or anything. I do know that Scorpius can be particular about what he likes, especially textures against his skin. He prefers deeper colors, no pastels, and comfort over style, much to my wife’s dismay.” 

Harry hummed. “I will get started on something and see what I can do. It would help if I can meet your son since I can tune the spells to him better that way but if that’s not possible I can still complete the piece. I’d also like to have him pick out some of the material if that’s alright with you?”

“Price?” Malfoy asked.

Harry named a figure below what he normally would charge. It wasn’t for Malfoy, necessarily, but he felt a pull to the little boy that reminded him of Luna in some ways with his dreamy smile and sharp eyes. He wanted to help. He’d make it for free if he thought Malfoy wouldn’t be deeply offended by the offer.

Malfoy nodded, though he gave Harry a sharp look of suspicion. “When should I bring him?”

“Hm, today is Sunday. How about two days from now, same time?” Malfoy agreed and Harry saw him out. He smiled as he locked the door. It was the most civil conversation he’d ever shared with the git and he was surprised to find he might like this older Malfoy. He did have a terrific arse.

***

Harry came down the stairs early in the morning two days later, leaving his loft somewhat untidy but not feeling guilty about the mess. He had just started working on his showpiece when the Floo chimed. He tapped the stone to open the connection and Hermione’s face appeared. 

She smiled, her hair bushy around her head. “Harry!”

“Hermione!” He mimicked, smiling back. He knelt down. “Good morning.”

“Can I come through?” 

“Of course.” He stepped back to let her in, smiling in welcome when Hermione’s daughter Rose stepped through first. He hugged her tightly and then gave Hermione a hug with his free arm, kissing her cheek as he worked around her pregnant belly.

“Harry, I know it’s short notice but can you watch Rose today? Molly caught that cold from Arthur that’s going around the Ministry.” Not an unusual request, but Harry paused.

“I have an appointment today with Draco Malfoy and his son about a commission.” Harry warned his friend.

Hermione smiled. “How is Draco? I haven’t seen him in a while.” She continued when Harry looked confused. “He’s taken a Leave of Absence from St. Mungo’s. I hope he is fine. Ask for me?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know.”

“Please? Can you watch her? I will bring you enough curry for days.” Hermione asked again, giving him puppy eyes.

Harry agreed. If Hermione didn’t care if Rose and Malfoy were in the same room together then he certainly didn’t. Plus there was curry involved now. Hermione left quickly for work after kissing her daughter on the forehead and warning her to behave. Rose, smiling angelically, said she would. Harry promised to watch her closely, knowing perfectly well Rose took after her uncle George more than most imagined.

Rose climbed up on a stool and folded her legs under her, leaning forward on the work counter. “The tree looks beautiful, Uncle Harry.”

“Thanks, Rosebud,” Harry said, beaming. “I’ve just started etching the runes in the trunk. Want to practice drawing them with me?”

Rose nodded, already tugging the thick tome on the table closer. At six, she was a terrifying mix of Hermione’s sponge-like intelligence and Ron’s quiet, strategic mind. Somewhere along the way she’d developed a fearsome Gryffindor-esque bravery, most likely from the extensive Weasley clan, although Harry felt certain she’d be a Ravenclaw once she reached Hogwarts. She found the loose parchment she normally used when she stayed with him in the back of the book and began to copy down the runes from the pages where she’d left off on her last visit. 

“Which one is that?” Harry asked after he’d etched in another defensive rune in the silver trunk, pointing at one near the end of her scroll.

Rose shrugged, her bushy red hair springing with the motion. “I made it up.”

“Looks like ‘Life’ and ‘Friendship’ mixed together,” Harry guessed based on the drawing, tracing it with his fingertip.

“Yes!” Rose told him proudly. “It’s for a new beginning with a friend.”

Harry kissed her head and gave her a strip of leather to carve it into. “Add it to this. It’s for a commission I’m working on.”

Rose blushed and beamed, pleased to help. Harry worked peacefully for a couple of hours, putting the final touches on the physical portion of the showpiece. Rose was content to pillage Harry’s library once she grew bored of drawing runes, and though he’d once expressed concern to Hermione that the books were too advanced for her, Hermione had looked them over and approved them for her daughter’s consumption. 

“Uncle Harry, I found this one upstairs. How do you talk with your hands?” Rose asked, showing Harry the book when he took his break to make them lunch. 

Harry smiled. “I have a client coming to visit today who can’t speak like us. He uses his hands to talk. I thought I’d try to learn it.”

Rose looked baffled for an instant and then delighted. “Can I learn?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed. “I can use you to practice with!” Harry made them soup and sandwiches to eat while they practiced making letters with their fingers.

“Look Uncle Harry, I can spell your name!” Rose said, showing him slowly. She took her time to make her gestures look like the pictures.

Harry smiled, pleased to realize he could follow her. “And here’s yours,” he said, signing back.

Rose giggled. “Uncle Harry, my name isn’t Beautiful, it’s Rose!”

Someone knocked on the front door, so Harry got up to answer. He wasn’t surprised Malfoy was early. He greeted the man and invited him inside. There was a small boy with him that could only be Scorpius. He was tall for his age and as pointy as Malfoy had been as a child. He had his father’s platinum blond hair worn about shoulder length and a face expressive with curiosity. He had bright blue serious eyes that he must have inherited from his mother. 

Scorpius ignored Harry’s greeting and wandered over to the pond, crouching next to it with a curious tilt to his head.

Malfoy’s smile was sad. “Don’t take it personally, Potter. He’s not always mindful of his surroundings.”

Harry shrugged and tucked his hands in his pocket. “No offense taken. I’ll see if I can interact with him and if not I think I can still get useful information from the encounter. Thank you for bringing him.” He startled when he felt a hesitant hand wrap around his leg. He glanced down and saw Rose peeking hesitantly at Malfoy. “Is it alright if Rose plays with Scorpius? She’s Hermione and Ron’s daughter. Rose, this is Mr. Malfoy and his son, Scorpius.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Rose said with a cheeky grin that was all Ron. She didn’t wait for Malfoy to agree before she hurried over to the pond.

Malfoy watched them nervously so Potter tapped his arm. “Come on back, you can see what I’ve worked on so far.”

Malfoy clearly didn’t want to leave his son alone but Potter didn’t leave him room to argue. “That child is clearly a blend of her parents,” Malfoy said.

“Bushy carrot top,” Harry agreed, laughing. “It’s true in more ways than the obvious though. And don’t play Wizard Chess against her.”

“Harry,” Malfoy said reverently, stopping in front of the tree. 

Harry blushed, both because of the look on Malfoy’s face and the sudden use of his first name. “It’s not finished,” He said awkwardly.

Malfoy’s eyes were burning. “I had no idea.”

“Erm,” Harry said stupidly. He ran nervous fingers through his unruly hair. “No idea?”

“That you had so much talent. That is masterful.”

Still blushing, Harry coughed and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Thank you.” He laughed at himself. “I’ve been doing this for years now and it never gets easier to take the compliments.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “What do you mean you aren’t used to compliments? You’re in the bloody Daily Prophet at least once a week. Harry Bloody Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Picks his Nose with Style.” Then he seemed to hear himself and he blushed red. “Sorry, Potter,” Malfoy said calmly, clearly making an effort to be friendly.

Harry fidgeted and looked away to hide his smile. At least some parts of Malfoy hadn’t changed and he admitted that was actually comforting. “Right, well let me show you about.”

Harry showed Malfoy around the workshop, keeping it vague since he knew the children were still in the shopfront. Malfoy seemed most impressed with Harry’s Potions Lab, approving of his wards and set up with a small nod. 

“How often do you use the Potions Lab? You have to admit you made a poor showing in the subject at Hogwarts,” Malfoy asked.

Harry laughed. “You know, after I took a Muggle cooking course at University I realized Potions weren’t very much different. I went ahead and got a tutor and then retook my Newts so I could keep a basic lab here in the shop. I still have to hire out a Potions Master for some of the more regulated potions but the Ministry is rather tolerant of my experiments so long as I register any new Potions I brew and keep my ingredient lists legal.”

Malfoy huffed. “I am a Potions Master and I run a respectable lab at St. Mungo’s and the Ministry is barely tolerant of the potions I brew there.”

“Well, I bet you don’t send them chocolates for Boxing Day,” Harry pointed out smugly.

Malfoy’s laugh seemed to surprise him. “I never thought you’d be one to play politics, Potter.”

“I never thought you wouldn’t bother,” Harry told him. He grabbed his sketchpad and the sample work he’d placed on a tray earlier. “Shall we go over everything out front?” Malfoy agreed, pausing once again to look at the tree.

Malfoy’s brow drew together with curiosity. “Why do you say this isn’t finished yet?”

Harry studied the tree, absentmindedly noting a few leaves that still needed adjustments and a couple other wires that were working themselves loose. “It’s complicated.”

Malfoy stayed silent, inviting Harry to continue.

“After Hogwarts and the war, I decided I’d rather do advanced training in Magical Artefacts than go into the Auror program. I signed up for a concentration in Charms and Defense but I worked on additional courses in Transfiguration and Potions as part of the program. It gave me the idea of trying to combine them by transfiguring items and imbuing them with spells, and even enhancing certain characteristic with potions. Not exactly an original idea of course, or the Magical Artefacts department in the Ministry wouldn’t exist, but new enough for me.” Harry began.

“But you can’t Charm items that have been Transfigured,” Malfoy said.

“Correct.” Harry smiled. “Or you couldn’t. It is possible, actually, but the spells fade quickly or something goes wrong and the Charms don’t work as intended. So I tried to work with different mediums to experiment and discovered all this. It still works best the Muggle way though, but there is enough variety involved.”

“Your jewelry.”

Potter hummed agreeably. “After I got my mastery in Magical Artefacts, I took art classes as a way to learn how to work with the different mediums and then discovered that shape and size and textures and bases all matter to how the spells work. From there I started layering. And the more I worked the more expensive everything became so I started selling the more artistic pieces. Then people started asking for designs and custom spells and the Charmed Occasions was born.”

“But that doesn’t explain the tree?” Malfoy asked hesitantly, crossing one of his arms across his chest to hold his other arm. It was an oddly defensive gesture and one Harry didn’t recall Malfoy using before. The man had always seemed so confident in himself, or at least manipulative with his actions. This just seemed vulnerable.

Harry smiled and put the tray down. He pointed to the leaves. “See, these here aren’t as curled as this cluster here? That would be fine if I meant to use the leaf clusters for something like an Atmosphere Charm, such as Luna’s Tranquility Charm, but this tree is going to be the root of the shop’s defensive spells. So I have to curl the leaves here a bit more so they have the strength to hold those charms. Then there is this strand of silver that’s too loose around this gold branch. If I leave it that way I run the risk of creating a gap in the spell and someone taking advantage.”

“That’s rather complicated,” Malfoy said, respect in his tone. “What happens if someone straightens a leaf after the spells are placed?”

Potter shrugged. “Nothing. I developed a variation of a Sticking Charm and a Stasis spell that makes it impossible to adjust anything unless you know the counterspell.”

Malfoy studied him. “I never thought of you as all that gifted in Charms class, Potter.”

Harry didn’t let the criticism bother him. He shrugged. “Things changed. When the war was finished and we went back for 8th year, Professor Flitwick recommended the Magical Artefacts program for me when I mentioned I had no plans after N.E.W.T.S. and everything spiraled on from there.” That was as simple an explanation he could give without touching on topics he preferred to avoid. He picked up the tray of samples again and walked back into the shop.

Rose giggled as they approached as Scorpius reached out to adjust her hand. Harry heard Malfoy’s gasp of surprise but ignored him, setting the tray on the table as he sat on his favorite chair.

Rose beamed at Harry. “Uncle Harry, Scorpius likes your shop.”

Harry returned the smile, including Scorpius. “Thank you. Your cousin Luna helped me with the design.”

Scorpius made some quick hand gestures that Harry tried to follow. He held up his hand. 

“Wait, wait. I think you spelled Luna is…?” He concentrated.

Scorpius repeated the gesture.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think I know that one yet.” He turned to Malfoy. 

Malfoy stood beside Harry, staring with disbelief. Harry nudged him, and Malfoy shook his head, frowning. “Sorry.” He watched as Scorpius patiently re-signed his sentence. “Luna is kind,” he translated. “She understands me.”

Harry laughed. “I agree. She sees people’s hearts.”

Scorpius nodded.

“I didn’t realize that you could sign an entire word in one gesture,” Harry asked, addressing the question to Scorpius but turning to look at Malfoy.

“This means Sprite,” Rose told Harry, showing him with her hands.

“It’s a bit more advanced but much faster to have signs for common words than to spell everything out,” Malfoy explained, finally taking a seat. He sat on the same chair from his previous visit, eyeing it suspiciously when he sank a bit. Scorpius abandoned the pond and curled up in his father’s lap, tucking his head underneath Malfoy’s chin. Rose took a dainty seat on the couch, spreading her bright blue dress out around her, smiling as she spelled words to Scorpius.

“Scorpius, Mr. Potter is going to make you something. He’d like to show you some of his ideas?”

Scorpius seemed to consider the idea seriously before agreeing, signing yes. Harry wanted to ruffle the boy’s hair but remained mindful of Scorpius’s dislike of touch. Instead, Harry showed him the tray. 

“I’ve put a sampling of all the materials I most commonly work with. If you don’t like any of them, I have others but they tend to be more difficult and not always as effective for spells. So take a look, feel free to touch or manipulate them however you want. If you like it just set it aside.” Harry picked up the strap of leather Rose had helped him with earlier. “This, for instance, is leather that Rose carved a rune into. If you wear it around your wrist then the rune will have some effects on you.”

“I don’t recognize that one,” Malfoy asked, leaning forward.

“I made it,” Rose said proudly. “To help make friends.”

“New Beginnings,” Harry told the man, tying it around Malfoy’s pale wrist. Malfoy looked shocked again, staring now at his arm. Scorpius slowly reached out and ran a timid finger over the leather. 

Rose pointed to the rose-tinted silver chain on the tray. “Scorpius, this is the metal Uncle Harry made for me when I was born. It’s called Rose Silver.” She touched it, giggling when the silver began to curl around her finger. “It bonds to the person who wears it. See?” She showed him. Scorpius climbed off Malfoy’s lap and knelt by the table to touch it, grinning when the silver metal curled slowly around his finger as well. He was clearly in awe.

Harry opened his sketchbook and flipped it around to show Malfoy. “I figured either a chain or a bracelet would likely be most effective given the spell layering and his age. If I make a ring it will be more limited in capability and he’d outgrow it in a couple of years. Rings are better for one strong, solid spell. A bracelet or cuff I can certainly make adjustable so it can grow as he gets bigger and a necklace is something he can wear under his clothes if he prefers to keep it hidden.” He showed some of the drawings to Malfoy. “I know the trend is growing for boys to pierce an ear but it would have the same effect as a ring.”

“I think a necklace would suit best, perhaps, to start,” Malfoy decided, holding the pad. He flipped the page and traced one of the sketches with an open hand. “This looks like the tree you created.”

Harry glanced over. “Yes, you mentioned he enjoys the woods and solitude. I thought he might like the link.”

“Yes,” Malfoy said gruffly.

“Uncle Harry, what’s this one?” Rose asked, holding up a purple-tinted gold nugget.

Harry plucked it from her fingers and held it flat in his palm. “This is shield gold,” Harry told her and a wide-eyed Scorpius in a dramatic whisper. “Behold,” he intoned, waving his hand over the nugget, “mined off the coast of Belgium by entrepreneurial merfolk, then dropped into a boiling potion of Bubotuber Pus and Exploding Ginger Eyelash to cook for THREE WHOLE DAYS before being buried deep in a _haunted_ cave located in the thickest mists of the Forest of Dean. There it waits for a year and a day, deep in the dark, damp soil as the murdered, brave, fierce ghosts of the Druid warrior-wizards hover above, defending the graves of their loved ones.” Harry almost laughed when he saw the two children didn’t look at all bothered by the process but Malfoy had certainly turned a bit paler.

“Why a year and a day?” Rose asked, her clever mind already poking holes at the more curious parts of the tale.

Scorpius signed a question also, keeping it slow. “ _How do you get it back from the ghosts?_ ”

“Well, it has to be a year and a day, Rose, because that’s how long it takes for the gold to soak up the protective spirit energy. You can leave it longer and it will be stronger, but if you take it out too soon then it won’t be strong. And,” Harry said, pausing with a flourish, “you retrieve the nuggets with….Nifflers!”

Rose burst into giggles, covering her mouth. “What are Nifflers?”

Scorpius smiled, raising an eyebrow in a way only learned from his father.

“Nifflers are gold finders, of course!”

Scorpius plucked the nugget out of Harry’s hand, pointing to an area more purple than the rest.

“That’s a focus point in the nugget,” Harry explained. “Shield gold is best used for protective charms. It is strongest when used to create a real Shield Charm.”

“You should choose that one,” Rose whispered loudly. Scorpius nodded and added it to a small pile. They bent back over the tray.

“That’s quite a story,” Malfoy said.

“And all true,” Harry replied, grinning.

“Impossible,” Malfoy scoffed. “No one would make a potion of Bubotuber Pus and Exploding Ginger Eyelash because they are simply too volatile when combined. Any potioneer would know better.”

“Well, you are a Potions Master and you are correct, unless you have someone incompetent creating the potion and they used Exploding Ginger Eyelash by accident instead of Flobberworm Mucus and it just happened to work out.” Harry said sheepishly.

Malfoy slapped Harry’s arm and then looked at his hand with something akin to betrayal. “Potter, you could have killed yourself.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he joked. 

Malfoy looked utterly baffled. “You are so peculiar.” He glared. “And an idiot.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, winking. Rose giggled and even Scorpius looked vaguely amused.

Malfoy straightened as much as he was able in the plush chair, which suddenly decided to soften so much Malfoy sank deeper into the cushions. “Potter, are you flirting with me?” Malfoy tried to push himself back out of the chair.

“If I say yes will you flirt back?” Harry asked directly, leaning forward intently. Malfoy flushed, and Harry took pity on him. “Scorpius, let’s see what you selected?” 

The boy placed the items in Harry’s hands one by one - leather, shield gold, rose silver, cooper, hawthorne wood, cherry wood, a swatch of green cashmere, moonstone and a tiger’s eye. Harry considered each piece, working with the image in his mind until he had incorporated each material into the necklace. “What an interesting combination,” Harry muttered to himself, fingering the tiger’s eye. He gently brushed back Scorpius’s platinum hair. “Good choices,” he said, pleased when Scorpius didn’t seem to mind the brief touch.

Harry separated Scorpius’s choices on the tray and rose to take it back to his workshop. He wasn’t too surprised when Malfoy followed him, grumbling to the chair about the indecency of indolent behaviour in public. “Should be ready in two to three weeks. I normally work on the jewelry for a week and then spend another week building the spells,” Harry told Malfoy.

“You learned sign language,” Malfoy finally stated when they were alone. “And taught Rose. In two days?”

“Well we haven’t got very far,” Harry protested. “Rose practiced with me this morning but I’m afraid I’m probably better at reading it than using it.”

“Potter, you’re not grasping this. You learned sign language for my son.”

Harry shrugged. “It sounded interesting. He’s around Rose’s age and Ginny’s son, Fred, so they’ll all be going to Hogwarts around the same time. I like learning new things. I may not have the same reputation for knowledge gathering as you and Hermione did in Hogwarts but I can certainly hold my own.”

Malfoy studied him until Harry began to get uncomfortable and then he seemed to make a decision. “Have dinner with me.”

Surprised, Harry dropped the shield gold in his hand and felt the concussion blast out from the nugget. He hit the ground hard, pain filling his head as it bounced off the floor. “Shite,” he muttered, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to breathe through the pain of his ringing ears.

“Potter? Harry? Open your eyes.”

“No,” Harry decided.

“Damn it, Harry, I’m a Healer. Open your eyes.” Cool fingers smoothed through his hair, and Harry lips twisted up as another part of him woke up. Malfoy touched the back of Harry’s head and another wave of pain caused him to groan. The fingers disappeared. “No blood. Open your eyes so I know your brain isn’t gooier than usual,” Malfoy demanded again.

Harry complied, if only because he knew the prat wouldn’t stop demanding. “I’m fine, just needed a minute.” He smiled weakly. “Though if you want to keep touching my hair I’m not opposed.”

Malfoy’s grey eyes gazed at him with concern, ignoring Harry’s flirtation. “Well, your pupils aren’t blown and seem to be tracking. If your head still hurts in an hour go to St. Mungo’s. You might have a concussion.”

“I’m fine,” Harry insisted.

Malfoy’s face changed to one of anger. “What the hell was that, Potter?”

“Must have activated the shield,” Harry explained. “That’s part of the defensive spells in the nugget. It absorbs the protective feelings of the ghosts in the cave and then when someone attacks someone touching it then the stone will act like a shield and raise around the user.”

“It didn’t seem to be doing much protecting when it threw you across the room,” Malfoy gritted out. “I don’t want my son wearing that.”

Harry reached out and pushed on Malfoy’s chest gently as he sat up, frowning slightly when Malfoy hesitated before allowing him up. “It’s not directed in the raw material, Malfoy. Technically it shouldn’t even be able to draw a shield in that form.” He reached out and picked it up, grimacing at the unfriendly humming in the nugget. “Seems like it’s tuned itself to your son.”

“What?” Malfoy said, sitting back. “What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s Scorpius’s now. The gold occasionally will bond to someone quickly if it feels a need. It’s no good to me in this form since I can’t work with it. If I try to shape it or cut it then the shield will activate. You may as well let your son carry it in his pocket. It will act as a mild repulsion spell around him if he doesn’t want to be touched, and if he gets touched in violence then the stone will react accordingly.” He handed the nugget to Malfoy, got up and dusted his bum, wincing at the faint ache in his head and his hip. He approached his bookshelf and drew out a thin bound notebook, handing it to Malfoy.

“Since I developed it I have a record of all my notes and findings. You can borrow it and just send it back when you’re done. You can carry the stone until you’re comfortable giving it to him, but I’ve found the stone has a mind of its own so don’t be surprised if it disappears and goes to Scorpius on its own. Or if you carry it too long it may bond to you instead.”

Malfoy grimaced and took the book. He sighed and slid the small notebook into his pocket before meeting Harry’s green eyes. “Dinner? Tomorrow?”

Potter frowned, then smiled when he remembered Malfoy’s demanding invitation before he dropped the stone. “Sounds like a date.”

Malfoy’s smile was slight but present. “I will pick you up at seven.” He left, calling out to Scorpius as he strode in wide steps to the door. “Until tomorrow, Potter.”

Harry smiled, hugging Rose as she put her arm around his waist.

***

Harry heard the Floo chime and he wiped his forehead dry on his long flannel sleeve before he put down his small heating rod and pliers. He tapped the brick on the mantle and opened the connection, surprised to see Malfoy appear.

Malfoy frowned. “Potter, you look like you’ve been sitting in a sauna. Haven’t you ever heard of a Cooling Charm? Or any of the dozens of grooming spells available to any somewhat competent wizard?”

Harry blinked, and then his mind cleared from his artist zone. “Draco!” He gasped. “Oh no. Two minutes! I lost track of time. Come on through.” He raced up the stairs, yanking his shirts over his head. He threw them into the hamper, glad he’d taken the time to clean the night before and quickly jumped into the shower, gasping at the shock of the cold water.

As soon as he was soaped and clean he shut the water off and grabbed a towel, drying quickly but missing most of it. He hopped out of the bathroom drying one leg and then fell over when he saw Draco admiring some of his pictures hanging on the wall. 

Draco turned and blushed, quickly turning back to the wall. “Apologies, Potter, I thought you knew I was here.”

“No problem,” Harry managed to get out as he stood, covering himself. He checked Draco’s clothes, noting the clean cut of his grey pantaloons and dark blue dress robes, before he opened his wardrobe and pulled out his own black slacks and burgundy robes. He had the slacks half on before remembering he needed to wear pants. Blushing, he opened his dresser drawer and shuffled to the rarely used and thus nicer pairs sitting near the bottom. He quickly got dressed and then hurried into the bathroom to finish combing his hair.

“These pictures are very well taken. The lighting is superb and the photographer captured your friends and family perfectly,” Malfoy said conversationally. “Even the stills look like captured moments. Look, here is Weasley being a prat. And here is Granger being a know-it-all. And here you are being a sloppy mess while still being heroic. Merlin, is that you actually catching a snitch in this shot?” He sounded impressed.

“Funny enough, Lee Jordan took those pictures. He does commentating for the Department of Magical Games and Sports for the Quidditch matches and also does most of the newspaper articles and game photography for the Daily Prophet. He married Ginny about seven years ago after they met again on the circuit.” Harry approached Malfoy and stood next to him, looking at a picture of him and Ron surrounding Hermione and baby Rose at the hospital. Lee hadn’t taken that shot but he had touched it up a bit. He could smell Malfoy’s minty scent and he shivered. He pointed to another picture. “That’s Fred, Ginny’s son.”

“Does he do commissions?” Malfoy asked, reaching out to brush a finger against a photo of Rose, Fred, and Matilda, George and Angelina’s daughter, when there were all around five years old.

Harry nodded. “For friends and family. I can ask if he’ll do one of Scorpius for you?” he offered.

Malfoy hesitated and then shook his head. “No, thank you. He’ll certainly not see me as either a ‘friend’ or ‘family’ based on our history.”

Harry shrugged, already making a note to ask Lee during the next family get-together at the Burrow. “Ready?”

Malfoy nodded and looked down, then smirked. “Potter, you’re not wearing shoes or socks.”

Harry blushed and quickly finished putting them on. At least Malfoy hadn’t commented on his unruly hair. He stepped back in surprise when Malfoy reached over his head and wrapped a black silk tie around his neck, smirking as he tied it wordlessly. 

Malfoy gave a gentle tug on the end of the tie. “Come,” he said quietly, releasing the silk as he headed down the stairs. Harry felt half seduced already and they hadn’t even left the flat yet. He stumbled down the stairs behind the blond, admiring the lines of Malfoy’s robe from behind.

It took Harry two more minutes to ensure that all his wards were set to protect the shop, lock the vault, and to store his more dangerous work tools so the whole flat wouldn’t burn down while he was out. Malfoy took the time to look in the display cases Harry had begun to fill that afternoon. 

“This bracelet is exquisite. How does it not fall apart?” Malfoy asked, peering closely as a delicate chain of gold and amber stones.

“It’s hardier than it looks,” Harry assured, smiling proudly. “Originally I was going to add a vine motif but the spells I chose to build into the gems appreciated the simplicity of the design so I left it.”

“My mother will love it. Can you hold it for me? I will purchase it tomorrow.” Malfoy’s eyes crinkled happily. “I can’t wait to show her.”

Harry laughed. “It’s yours. Anything for Narcissa,” he said. “She’s been a wonderful support during my career.”

Malfoy straightened so fast he bumped Harry’s nose. Harry’s eyes watered and he rubbed the soreness, wincing. 

“You speak with my mother?”

“Not often. Mostly by owl.” Harry wrinkled his nose, crossing his eyes as he checked for blood. “She saved my life all those years ago and I owe her a life debt. Narcissa considered it paid when I testified for you both during the trials but I told her that I would always be at her assistance should she need me. She told me she would never call on me that way but she would love a friend so we exchange letters, birthday presents, and the like. Met for tea a couple times.”

Malfoy’s face was curiously blank. “You already knew about Scorpius then.”

Harry frowned, wondering at Malfoy’s empty tone. “No. We mostly discuss art and politics and wizard versus Muggle upbrings. She sends me some spell books and odd artefacts every so often and occasionally a commission and I send her muggle romance books and clippings from Neville’s greenhouse. We don’t speak about family.”

Malfoy released his breath. “Fine. Shall we eat?” 

Harry hesitated. “Are you alright?”

“Come,” Malfoy said, holding the door open. 

“Tell me what upset you?” Harry asked, pausing in front of Malfoy and placing his hand carefully on Malfoy’s forearm.

Malfoy looked down into Harry’s eyes and finally relaxed. “I just didn’t know. That you and my mother were in touch. She never said. Seems rather exceptional to keep that a secret for eleven years.”

Harry shrugged. “If it’s any consolation, Hermione didn’t tell me and Ron about the friendship you had developed at St. Mungo’s for almost two years. Ron didn’t speak to her for a week and he didn’t speak to me either because I didn’t see any problem with it.” Harry stepped through the door and waited for Malfoy to close it before he locked it and activated the final wards.

Malfoy hissed, drawing back from the door. “Merlin, Potter, your wards are like fire.”

Harry laughed. “Sorry, but you’d be surprised how much my shop is worth.”

“I wouldn’t actually.”

Malfoy had picked out a popular restaurant a few streets down from Harry’s shop near the far end of Diagon Alley. Harry was glad he’d worn his dress robes. He’d never been to Caesar's Passions; most of his friends always chose pubs and Hermione refused to eat in the fancier wizard-run restaurants because they often used house-elves for labor. 

“I hope this is fine,” Malfoy said as they stepped inside.

Harry breathed in the rich scents and tried not to look like he was in heaven. _Keep it cool, Harry_. “Perfect actually. I’ve been dying to come here since they opened last month and read about that lava cake dessert in the Daily Prophet. I’m a sucker for chocolate.”

Malfoy’s face lit up. “Dessert first?” he asked as they took their seats.

Harry laughed. “Sounds good to me.” 

Malfoy barely glanced at the menu before settling on seared tuna and wild rice. He must have noticed Harry’s bafflement at the French because he snatched the menu out of Harry’s fingers. “Harry, do you prefer fish, chicken, or steak?”

Harry frowned. “I’m rather open-minded about food, I suppose. I tend to enjoy most everything.”

“Have you had seared tuna?”

“Can’t say that I’ve tried it, no,” Harry admitted. 

Malfoy smiled and doubled the order, making sure the waiter knew to bring their lava cake first, followed by a chicken satay with peanut sauce for the appetizer. Malfoy ordered plum wine saying they might as well enjoy the oriental theme.

“I don’t think lava cake is Asian,” Harry pointed out, closing his eyes in bliss as the chocolate slowly melted on his tongue. “I can die now.” He opened his eyes and noticed Malfoy’s face was incredibly red. “Is yours not good?”

Malfoy swallowed. “Haven’t tried it yet,” he murmured quietly, his eyes on Harry’s mouth.

“Oh, did I miss?” Harry asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“You make dessert look sinful, Potter,” Malfoy told him warily.

“Dessert is sinful,” Harry said, eating another bite with a moan. “This is better than sex.”

“You’re not having the right sex then,” Malfoy pointed out.

Harry pointed at Malfoy’s untouched spoon with his chocolate-coated spoon. “No comment until you at least try some.”

Malfoy finally picked up his spoon and took a careful bite, and his own eyes closed in blissful rapture. “Oh my.” Malfoy swallowed and Harry thought it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “I take it back, Potter.”

“Now if we can sneak this back home with us we can combine the two pleasures into something epic,” Harry joked, spooning more chocolate into his mouth. 

Malfoy’s face froze and he blushed again. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not hitting on you, Malfoy. I know you’re not a poof.” He was lying through his teeth. He was totally hitting on Malfoy. He only wished Malfoy was a poof.

If anything Malfoy grew stiffer. “Harry, I am.”

“Are what?” 

“A...poof.” 

Harry stared at Malfoy and slowly lowered his spoon. “But you’re married.”

“Divorcing,” Malfoy clarified. “I’ve never, uh, cheated on Astoria. I married in good faith and so did she. But I’ve always known my preferences and Astoria only remained married to me the requisite amount of time to fulfill the contract conditions to get her settlement.” He shrugged. “My marriage was not what I hoped it would be, but I got Scorpius out of it so I wouldn’t change anything.”

Harry leaned back as the waiter approached and removed their dessert plate before putting down their appetizer. Malfoy picked up a skewer and dipped the chicken in the peanut sauce, taking a filling bite with obvious joy. Harry followed suit, thinking over this words.

“So, to clarify,” Harry asked after he’d finished his chicken. “This is, in fact, a date?”

Malfoy blushed again, and Harry smiled. It was nice to see Malfoy red with desire and not anger. “Er, well, I’d hoped so. I mean, not quite. I am still married after all, until the paperwork goes through and our marriage bond is broken. If you prefer, we can say it’s dinner between two people learning how to be friends.”

Harry reached across the table and curled his callused fingers around Malfoy’s...no, _Draco’s_ , smooth fingers, running his thumb over the leather band he’d tied on Draco’s wrist the day before. “Dinner between friends sounds wonderful, with the hope of more to come in the future.” He squeezed and released Draco’s fingers before it could become uncomfortable and leaned back. “So tell me about what you do.”

“I run the laboratory at St. Mungo’s Hospital. The old Potions Master wanted to retire and Snape had recommended me as a possible replacement before his death. I was lucky to be approached so soon after eighth year and he apprenticed me through the three year dual Healer/Potion Master program, even going so far as to work around the war trials that first year.” Draco went on to describe the changes he’d made in the lab and a few of the trickier potions he’d been working on. Harry listened with fascination, admitting that Draco made potions sound more exciting than Snape ever could.

“How did you and Hermione become friends?” Harry asked finally. “She merely told us that you both had been quote, ‘friends for years and that was that, end of story, accept it and move on.’ Or else,” he said, sounding just like her. “That last bit was implied.”

Draco swallowed his tuna. “That’s a strange story actually. You see, there was an outbreak of potion-resistant Dragon Pox that summer and Hermione was just pregnant with Rose, so about three years after Hogwarts, two years after the trials. Scorpius was just born and Astoria’s niece had it and then Scorpius got it. So I was working night and day at the hospital to find a cure. Unfortunately, a young mediwitch came into the lab and tripped, spilling an entire tray of cultures all over me. And to make it worse, Hermione had just walked into the lab to pick up some results on one of her patients.”

Harry groaned, remembering. “The hospital quarantine?” 

Draco nodded. “Yes. The three of us were locked in the lab for a week through the incubation period to ensure we hadn’t contracted the virus. Since we were there anyway, Hermione helped me develop the new potion for my son and the others. It was...tense...the first few days.” He smiled slightly. “It helped that I apologized.”

“I spent the entire week keeping Ron from the hospital. I still have a scar on my back from one of Ron’s hexes when he heard Hermione was sick and I wouldn’t let him go into the lab.” Harry frowned.

Draco winced. “All three of us ended up with it. Luckily, we had the potion finished by then and it was in the final stages so it was over quickly. Scorpius survived, though I believe it contributed to his speech impairment. Rose, coincidently, is completely immune to Dragon Pox,” he added.

“Fortunate that two of the most brilliant people I know happened to be stuck together for a week with a single goal,” Harry said, trying for joking when he meant every word. 

Draco paid for dinner, ignoring Harry’s offer with a _very scary glare_ that turned Harry on more than he would ever admit. As he shifted in his chair in what he hoped was a discreet manner while Draco excused himself to use the loo, Harry quickly ordered an extra lava cake to go from the buser, giving her a little extra to hurry before Draco returned. Harry barely managed to tuck it into his pocket before Draco returned.

They walked back to Harry’s shop in amiable silence, enjoying the atmosphere and the busy Diagon Alley streets that never seemed empty no matter the time. 

“Will you come in?” Harry asked hopefully, remembering his promise to do _things_ with lava cake. “Tea, or a nightcap? Hell, I even have Wizards Chess though I can’t promise to provide much of a challenge.”

Draco smiled and seemed tempted but he shook his head. “Astoria will be bringing Scorpius home early in the morning.”

Harry tried really hard not to let his disappointment show but he failed. Draco chuckled. “You look like a wet cat. Fine, I will come in, but only for a little while.”

Harry beamed and he didn’t even care how he looked. He tugged on Draco’s robe and pulled him down until Draco’s lips met his own, sighing as pure pleasure rushed through his veins. He couldn’t believe what an incredible night he’d had considering with whom he’d shared it with. Never in a million years and not for a hundred chocolate frogs could he have imagined the pointy git that had tormented him for years at Hogwarts could offer up everything Harry hoped to find in someone.

Draco groaned against Harry’s lips, backing him up until Harry hit his front door and his head struck hard enough he saw stars, and Harry gasped when he felt Draco’s hardness rub forcefully against his own. Draco thrust his tongue into Harry’s mouth, tasting him and touching him playfully. His hands held Harry’s against the door, ravishing Harry with obvious want and need. Harry felt dizzy with desire, his body thrumming with magic as he arched his back to press closer to Draco. He tugged his arms, wanting and needing to return Draco’s touch, but the taller man only tightened his hands around Harry’s wrist and growled into his mouth, denying him the pleasure.

Someone whistled and Draco pulled back abruptly, keeping his body protectively over Harry’s as he blinked away the lust in his grey eyes. He groaned and buried his sharp nose against Harry’s neck, breathing in calmly as he tried to regain his control.

Harry continued rubbed himself against Draco, uncaring who saw, and then winced as Draco’s hands tightened again around his wrists. 

“Wait, stop,” Draco whispered harshly. “Potter, stop.”

The use of Harry’s last name was like ice water and Harry froze, gasping for breath. He trembled, his body tight and poised on the brink of shattering. “Why,” he finally asked. “We both want this.”

“Potter...Harry,” Draco corrected himself, pulling back slightly to look Harry in the eye. “Harry, I am still, for all intents and purposes, married, even if we have not had a real marriage in three years since Astoria moved out. I can’t give her any ammunition in court. I could lose Scorpius. The bond...she’ll know.” He gasped for air, fear in his eyes as he realized what had almost happened.

Harry shivered, feeling the cold in the air. “Release me,” he finally said.

Draco’s fingers uncurled from Harry’s wrists one by one, as if each finger took a separate effort to enforce. Draco slowly peeled himself off Potter, keeping his grey eyes locked tight on Harry’s green eyes. “I want this,” Draco said clearly, possessively. “I want this more than I could have imagined. And so we do this right.”

Harry shrugged, looking down. 

“Harry,” Draco demanded, and Harry closed his eyes as he felt himself swell all over. “I’m not going anywhere. But until I’m free of my obligation, I cannot go further. I’ve already gone too far.” Draco swallowed, his voice colored with regret.

Harry stood, forcing Draco back. He took the lava cake out of his pocket and handed it to Draco. “For Scorpius,” he told him, a small sad smile on his face. He leaned up, surprised anew at how tall Draco was when passion didn’t color his eyes, and placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s flushed cheek. “Goodnight,” he said. He undid the wards as he turned around and unlocked the door with a quick, fluid twist of his wand. He was inside with the door was shut and locked before Draco had a chance to gather his wits and stop him.

Harry leaned his forehead against the dark green front door, willing himself to calm down as he listened through the wood. He heard Draco mutter a curse and he thought Draco might be resting his own forehead against the other side. He heard the clear crunch of gravel beneath Draco’s shoes as he spun on his expensive leather shoes and stalked back up the alley towards the nearest apparition point.

He waited until he could breathe peacefully, relaxing in the shop’s Tranquility Charm, and then he walked into his studio to work. He knew it was going to be a long night.

***

Harry finally finished installing his artful security tree in the center of the shop floor. It was huge, bigger than most of the other pieces he worked on in the past few years, and he allowed himself to feel pride for a moment.

It was finished early only because he’d been so wound up with sexual frustration he’d spent the past two days working almost non-stop in the workshop. He ran his diagnostic spell on the tree, checking each defensive spell, protection spell, ward, charm, hex and jinx in the metal looking for any imperfection or flaw he could. Nothing seemed out of place. He cancelled the diagnostic and stepped back, nodding to Ron.

“It’s ready for a practical test. Don’t push too hard though because I added that one spell -”

Ron paled. “Mate, I’m not testing this.”

“You promised,” Harry protested.

“Not with _that_ spell on it. That spell managed to take out an entire cult last winter.” Ron crossed his arms, glaring at Harry with his wand loose between his fingers. “You didn’t have to pick up the body parts.”

“If they hadn’t kept trying to kill Trenton then the ring would have stopped lashing out. Honestly, one would think you wanted your partner to die.” Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Trenton can test your bloody security. I have no desire to look anything like those cult wizards.” Ron declared, flailing his arms wildly. “Harry, there were eyes stuck to the ceiling. And...and...fingers! In the walls. IN the walls!” Ron looked green.

“I’ve adjusted the spell so the shield gold won’t react that violently. I don’t want some stupid thief dying and haunting my shop forever because they tried to steal a stupid necklace,” Harry explained. “I promise you won’t explode. It’s much more relaxed now.” He smiled in what he hoped look charming, innocent, and convincing.

“What the hell does relaxed mean?” Ron demanded. “How does an explosive jinx become relaxed? Do you just melt into a puddle of bloody goo? Gee, thanks Harry. Instead of becoming eyes on the ceiling I can just watch as people step all over my insides.”

“Stop being so dramatic, it’s nothing! I just need you to test it! It won’t work on me since I’m keyed into all the spells.”

Ron growled. “I will fucking haunt you until you die, Harry, if this goes to shite.” Before he could decide otherwise, Ron set his feet apart and aimed his wand at the tree. He swallowed nervously. “You promise Harry?”

“Of course!” Harry said jovially. “You won’t explode or melt.”

“Great, right, because that covers all the contingencies.” Ron closed his eyes and reached slowly into the open case, picking up one of the bracelets. He carefully put it in his pocket and began to back towards the front door. “Oh Merlin, I’m going to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” Harry reassured.

Ron crossed the line separating the front of the shop from the display cases and the tree shot a bright purple streak towards Ron. Ron shrieked high enough to shatter glass, casting a Shield Charm before him. The purple spell ignored the shield and slammed through it, hitting Ron full in the chest.

Ron froze in place, petrified with a look of utter horror on his face.

Harry removed the jewelry out of Ron’s pocket and then cast _Finite_. Ron gasped for air, patting his chest and arms and face as he checked for visible injuries.

“What happened? Am I dead?” Ron asked, his hair sticking up. “Everything tingles and my muscles hurt. It’s unpleasant,” he whined.

Harry grinned. “The spell worked. You were petrified. And you might have received a small electric shock. Sorry, I haven’t been able to get rid of that part.”

Ron shivered. “Blimey mate, but I still don’t know why you won’t just be an Auror.”

Harry shrugged. “I still consult with the armory but I think I prefer not facing death every day.”

Ron cuffed his arm. “So that’s all? The spells are set?” Harry smiled, appreciating the change in topic.

“Just a few more tests and we can stop.”

Ron groaned. “There better be a plateful of biscuits after this, mate. And those Chudley Cannons tickets you promised. And you have to babysit at least once a month after the baby is born. And if I think of anything else I want that too.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You would get all that even without helping me with this.”

Ron’s crooked grin was smug. “That’s because I’m your best mate.”

Harry put the jewelry back in Ron’s pocket.

***

Ron stood as far away from the deadly tree as possible balancing his plate of biscuits with one hand as he lifted the biscuits to his mouth while clenching his wand with the other. “What’s wrong now? I think it’s very deadly and protective. Stop adding to it.”

Harry shook his head. “There’s a dissonance in this cluster somewhere and I can’t find it.”

“It’s fine,” Ron said again.

“Look, it’s not in harmony and if I activate the whole thing like this when one of the spells isn’t functioning properly then it could destabilize the whole thing. I rather not have my own invention burn my livelihood to the ground or kill everyone in Diagon Alley.” Harry cupped another branch between his hands and felt for imperfections.

Ron swallowed the last biscuit and brushed crumbs off his Auror robes. “Well, I need to get to work. It’s bloody brilliant and you know what you’re doing.” Ron waved. “I’ll see you on Sunday at the Burrow?” 

Harry’s brows drew together. “What day is it?”

Ron laughed. “Friday.”

Harry couldn’t believe it. “I still need to get dress robes for the bonding ceremony!”

“Hermione already took care of it. She put them in your wardrobe yesterday.”

“What would I do without you two?” Harry sighed.

Ron snickered. “I heard you had a date with a pointy blond git.”

Harry eyed his friend warily. “It wasn’t quite a date. I was going to mention it, but -”

Ron waved his explanation away. “Rose beat you too it. Wouldn’t stop talking about how that nice Mr. Malfoy asked you to dinner and she got to talk with her hands with Scorpius.” Ron smiled. “Besides, Hermione made it a rule in our house that we’re not allowed to say anything mean about Malfoy. Lucius is still fair game though.”

Harry relaxed. “Thanks Ron.”

“See you on Sunday,” Ron repeated and left.

Harry turned his attention back to the tree. He touched his chin. “I wonder.” He played around with the tree for a bit before taking a break and heading back to his workshop to work on the necklace for Scorpius. He was almost finished with the pendent and the tricolored chain had braided together strongly, and if he was lucky he could start on the spell work and detailing in the next few days. 

He had decided on altering a set of cuffs for Draco that he had finished a few months ago and kept in his vault. It happened occasionally that a spark of inspiration would hit and he would set the creation aside knowing the person it was meant for would come to claim it eventually. Now he knew he’d made them for Draco and all that was left was to coat them with the Supple Metal potion he’d been working on. Luna said he had a touch of Seer in him, but both Ron and Hermione had scoffed when he’d told them. Since it didn’t affect his life much he let the debate pass.

Stepping into his Potions Lab, Harry saw the potion cooling on the shelf had settled into the right color. He lifted the beaker to begin stirring when he heard the knock on the front shop door. He continued stirring as he went to answer. He was surprised to see Scorpius shivering on the stoop, his face red with fresh tears and blood from a cut near his temple. Scorpius grabbed hold of Harry’s leg and buried his face in Harry’s stomach, silently sobbing.

Surprised, Harry wrapped his free arm around Scorpius’s head protectively and studied the people about. A witch and wizard with angry sneers approached, ignoring the mutters from others in the street as they rudely pushed them aside. 

“Scorpius, go to my workshop and hide,” Harry told the boy, nudging him inside. Scorpius didn’t even look back before he ran into the shop. 

The couple were older, about the age Harry’s parents would be were they alive. Their robes were good quality but not extremely expensive, like they were trying to look rich when they couldn’t really afford it. It looked like the wizard’s robes were torn. They both had their wands out and pointed at Harry.

“Give us the boy.”

Harry raised a single dark eyebrow, knowing it emphasized the scar on his forehead, as he calmly stirred his potion. “You must be joking.”

The wizard growled. “We are not. He’s a thief and the son of a murderer and he will be punished.”

“I know for a fact that his father did not murder anyone and he was cleared of all charges by the Wizengamot eight years ago. He is a respectable Healer and Potions Master, an admirable wizard, and his son is kindhearted and not a thief. And even if he had stolen something, there is no excuse for a seven-year-old child to be crying and injured.” Harry’s voice was cold as the winter wind and many of the wizards in the alley stepped back. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now. Or do you not know who I am?”

The wizard spat on the ground. “I don’t give a flying Hippogriff who you are, _Harry Potter_ , but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand us the boy.”

“He ripped my husband’s robe,” the woman spit out angrily. “We have a right to seek reparations.”

“Probably trying to escape from you,” Harry told her, glaring harshly in her direction. Harry pulled his wand from his sleeve. “ _Expecto Patronum_ ” he cast, sending his patronus to Ron. “The Aurors will be here in a moment.” 

“Why you,” the wizard muttered angrily, casting with his wand. “Get out of our way!”

Harry didn’t know what the curse was that flew toward him but his shield barely came up in time to deflect it with the wizard standing so close. And the next thing he felt was the wizard barreling into him. The defensive spell on his lips died away since he hadn’t expected the wizard to actually get physical. Harry tripped back when his heel met his raised wood floor and he fell, spilling the potion in his hand.

The wizard pointed his wand close to Harry’s face. “Lucius Malfoy killed my son and now I will kill his grandson. Justice will be served.”

Harry felt the exact moment that the potion reached the tree’s roots. The air tensed around them and the hairs on his arm began to rise. There was a crackle and a building hum and then a dark blue spell shot from the tree and shoved the wizard off Harry. Harry quickly rolled, wand ready as he looked for the witch. 

He spotted her completely frozen halfway across the floor towards the workshop. A web of red reached out from the tree and wrapped around her, the spells touching her skin and holding her tight sizzled with burning power. Harry eyed the tree warily, noticing that all of the branches were waving with agitation. Slowly, he got to his feet.

“Easy,” he murmured, reaching his hands out slowly. The tree crooned and settled. Harry himself was unsettled but he didn’t let it show. He cast a quick diagnostic spell and saw the tree’s spell core was active and not by any spell he had cast. It shouldn’t be possible. And the imperfection he’d been searching for earlier was gone, replaced with something else, something that pulsed and sent a strange but pleasant hum through the tree. It almost sounded like the tree was alive.

Harry laughed nervously and cancelled the spell, backing away. He’d worry about it later. For now…

He found Scorpius in the pantry curled tightly in the corner. It took some coaxing but he managed to get the child out. The boy wrapped himself tightly around Harry, burying his face in Harry’s neck as he carried the small child into the downstairs washroom. 

Ron stepped into the workshop and quickly shut his mouth, his entire face going rigid with anger. “Did they do that,” he whispered, eyeing the blood on Scorpius’s face. Harry nodded and ignored Ron as his friend turned back into the shop, barking orders to arrest the couple.

Harry opened his cupboard and took out the necessary potions to heal Scorpius. He murmured reassurances in the boy’s ear as he gently patted away the blood with a sanitary swatch. Ron knocked gently on the door to gain Harry’s attention.

“What happened?” Ron whispered quietly.

Harry explained what he knew, telling Ron to warn his Aurors about the tree, as he ran his fingers calmly through Scorpius’s soft blond hair with one hand and cleaned his face with the other.

“Malfoy wasn’t with him?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. “Can you look for him?”

Ron nodded and backed out.

Once he was sure the wound was clean, Harry cast _Episkey_ and watched the cut mend. It looked healed but Harry put a Muggle band-aid on it just to be safe. He cast a diagnostic spell Hermione had taught him to check for spell damage but it seemed the cut was physical. He wanted to take Scorpius to St. Mungo’s to make sure there wasn’t anything worse wrong but thought waiting for Draco might be best.

He carried Scorpius with him into the shop and saw the two wizards were gone. The tree sat innocently in the center of the floor, as still as it had ever been. 

“Harry, I would like to point out that your tree is now twice as big as it was this morning,” Ron commented, his hands on his hips as he studied the metal curiously.

“So it has,” Harry agreed, pretending he had some clue as to why. He sat down in his favorite chair and tucked Scorpius comfortably around him. The boy was already half asleep. “Did you find Draco?”

Ron shook his head. “Did Scorpius know?”

Harry had asked while he cleaned but Scorpius had refused to sign, his tiny hands clutched tightly to Harry’s flannel shirt. “If he does he hasn’t said.”

“The juniors I sent out said Malfoy wasn’t at the Manor and he wasn’t at the hospital. Are you okay keeping the lad until we find something? If not, he can stay with us. Rose would be happy to see him,” Ron offered. “Technically I’m supposed to notify Children’s Protective Services but I can hold off on that for a few days.”

Harry squeezed the boy. “I’ve got him. Can you send Hermione over to look him over though if she has a chance?”

Ron nodded. “I’m going back to the office for the interrogation. I’ll let you know what I find.” Ron Disapparated and the tree shook violently in protest. Harry glared at it until it settled back down. 

Not five minutes later Hermione came in a rush through the Floo, her lime green Healer robes swirling around her in an energetic flury. “Harry!”

“In here,” he called out.

Hermione fell into the other chair with a huff, relaxing into the deep cushions with a smile. “Oh, I like this chair.”

Harry chuckled. “I’ll put the charm on one for you at your home next time I visit.”

Perking up, Hermione scooted forward and held her wand out. “I’ll just run some quick checks. Have to get back. Busy at work today.” A few minutes later she leaned back. “He’s fine. Mostly bruises and those will heal up in a few days. The cut is mostly gone.” She smiled at the boy and stood. “Let me know if Draco is found. It’s not like him to be away when Scorpius is home.”

“Will do,” He told her. Knowing she’d let herself out, Harry settled back into the chair and let Scorpius sleep against him.

The Floo chimed a half hour later, rousing Harry from his doze. He took Scorpius with him, reluctant to let the boy out of his sight, and answered. “Narcissa,” he greeted, smiling slightly and feeling guilty. “I take it you’ve been informed? I should have notified you myself but I honestly hoped Draco would be here by now.”

Narcissa’s green face looked thinner than he remembered. It was hard to judge in the flames. She coughed. “Greetings, Harry. Yes, the Aurors told me. I have a favor to ask.”

Harry nodded. “How can I help?”

“The Aurors still have not managed to find Draco. Astoria signed the custody papers yesterday giving Draco full parental rights. She is refusing to even see Scorpius and I fear I’m not feeling well enough to care for him properly.” Even through the flames Harry could see Narcissa’s chagrin.

“I am happy to keep him with me as long as needed, Narcissa. I only hope they find Draco soon and well,” He told her, worried. 

Narcissa grimaced. “I don’t understand how Scorpius even got to Diagon Alley in the first place. Draco was going to stop by the Ministry to file some paperwork related to the divorce and return home directly. Scorpius was in his room and the next thing I know there are Aurors here. The house-elves didn’t even alert me that my grandson was missing.” Her voice had a hard edge to it and Harry suspected the Malfoy house-elves were not in for a pleasant evening.

“I’ll keep a close watch,” Harry promised. “Get some rest. And if they haven’t found Draco by the morning then I’ll get involved. I have some spells that may help.”

Relieved, Narcissa finally agreed to rest and her face disappeared. Concerned, Harry carried the sleeping boy into his vault and searched until he found a dusty box in the back. He took out the small ring and activated it, slipping it onto Scorpius’s middle finger. It shrank until it sat comfortably against his skin, chiming once before settling. Then he checked Scorpius’s robe pockets, unsurprised when he found them empty. Draco must have kept the shield gold and Harry felt hurt that Draco hadn’t trusted in his present. He settled on a small gold coin on a leather cord that he put around Scorpius’s neck. Between the tracking ring and golden portkey the boy should be better protected if anything else happened.

Harry locked up and climbed the stairs to his upstairs flat, putting Scorpius in the spare bedroom he kept for all the Weasley children that occasionally stayed over, tugging off his blue sneakers and socks before slipping the robe over the boy’s head. He tucked him under the covers and kissed his forehead before he shut off all the lights except for an unobtrusive one in the corner and cracked the door.

After making sure the Floo was open in case Ron or Draco needed to come over, Harry made a simple dinner and set aside a plate for Scorpius if he woke up hungry. It was while he was cooking that he thought about sending his Patronus. He cast the spell. “Draco, Scorpius is safe with me. Come home if you are able.” He sent it.

He fell asleep on the couch still waiting.

***

It was dark when Harry woke and found Scorpius curled up beside him on the couch. He rested his cheek against the soft hair, smelling the mint that he’d already come to associate with Draco and the boy’s own woodsy scent. Scorpius stirred and looked up at Harry, questions in his small blue eyes.

“Sorry, mate, no news yet. Are you hungry?”

Scorpius looked dejected but nodded. He scooted off the couch and climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs, his eyes downcast and he worried his fingers. Harry heated up the plate with a Warming Charm and placed it in front of Scorpius with silverware and a glass of water.

He watched with some amusement as Scorpius ate slowly and methodically, starting first with his chicken, followed by his peas and carrots and finishing with his mashed potatoes. He seemed content to listen to Harry talk about watching Draco playing Quidditch in school, correcting Harry’s fingers when Harry gestured incorrectly.

Scorpius asked Harry about the ring and necklace. Harry saw no reason to keep it from him. “The ring will let me find you if something happens again. I’d like you to wear it until your dad comes home for you. The necklace is pirate gold. Just a tuned spell so if someone tries to hurt you all you have to do it hold it tight and think the name of the person you want to go to.” The idea had come to him when he’d studied Dumbledore’s Deluminator. His fingers brushed Scorpius’s hair, and he was pleased the boy didn’t mind, and happier still when Scorpius agreed to wear the jewelry. 

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Scorpius asked for paper. It took awhile but Scorpius painstakingly wrote out his story. He’d been in his room reading his new book and then he’d felt a pull and he was suddenly in Diagon Alley. The man had grabbed his arm and Scorpius had thrown his book at him and tried to run away. The woman had grabbed him instead and hit him. They’d carried him halfway down the street before he managed to get loose and run away. He’d come straight to Harry’s shop.

“Well done,” Harry told the boy proudly. Harry added a note to the bottom for Ron, explaining the letter above was from Scorpius and that the boy had not seen Draco at all. It sounded like they’d used some kind of portkey in the book. He asked if there had been any progress or a ransom note. The, he tied it to Ludwig, his small pygmy owl, and sent it on its way to Ron.

Harry tucked Scorpius back into bed after the boy had fallen asleep again on the couch and finally went to bed himself. He stared at the ceiling and watched the moonlight playing with the shadows. He hoped Draco was alive. He hope he was okay.

He sat up in bed as Ludwig flew through the crack in the window and dropped a letter on his bed before flying back to his perch in the living room, cooing happily as he dug into the treat bowl.

Harry broke the familiar seal on the note and saw Ron’s barely legible scrawl inside. 

_Harry,_

_We’ve found their hideout and Malfoy is alive. We’ve taken him to St. Mungo’s for treatment. He said he doesn’t want Scorpius to see him yet so he will come get his son in the morning after they heal him up and make him presentable, and I’m supposed to tell you he’s fine._

_It’s rather bad, Harry. Malfoy is one of the better off. Don’t worry though, he’s still a git._

_Ron_

Relieved, Harry put the note aside and fell asleep.

***

Harry was busy studying the unusual effects of the spilled potion on his tree the next morning when the Floo activated and he heard someone step out. Scorpius looked up at him with interest and Harry smiled at him with what he hoped was reassurance as he walked towards the workshop. 

Draco pelted into him so hard they both ended up on the floor. Harry groaned and wondered if he was destined to always have a sore head around Draco. His hands cupped around Draco’s biceps and he opened his eyes. “Draco?” He asked just to make sure his vision wasn’t affected. 

“Sorry, Harry.” Draco pushed off him and helped him up before he hugged his son standing nearby, clutching him tight against his chest. Harry winced and rubbed his head, smiling as he watched father and son reuniting.  
He straightened his glasses, tensing when he saw a metal tree branch reaching towards Draco. He pointed his finger. “Stop that. He didn’t hurt me on purpose.” 

The tree paused as if considering and began to reach forward again.

Harry growled. “I said stop it or I swear to Merlin I will melt you down.”

The tree quivered and shook and finally pulled back, making sure Harry could see its reluctance. Harry snorted. “I mean it,” he said again. He was absolutely certain now the tree was pouting. The bloody tree was more dramatic than Draco.

Draco turned with his son in his arms. “Potter, who are you talking to?”

Harry gestured to the tree. “Apparently my metal tree is now a living metal tree,” he grumbled. “Miracles of miracles, wonders of wonders,” he said sarcastically. He shook his finger at the tree again. “Don’t attack my customers without proper cause and don’t attack my friends and family at all!”

Harry swore the tree drooped further. Bloodthirsty, violent brute.

Draco let Scorpius wiggle free, though the boy kept hold of his father’s hand. “Thank you for protecting him,” Draco told Harry, bowing. “I owe you everything.”

Harry smiled weakly. “Wasn’t all me, I’m afraid. Tree did most of it.” Sure enough, the tree straightened and Harry tried not to roll his eyes when the tree shook with pleasure when Draco bowed to it. “And you owe me nothing.”

“Only you, Potter,” Draco said, his tone tinged with wonder and awe as he studied the tall preening tree. “How?”

Harry looked him over. Draco’s face was bruised and he was favoring his left side though he’d obviously already received some healing for his injuries. He had dried blood on his robes and enough tears and rips to compete with some of Harry’s old childhood clothes. Harry stepped forward, reaching out. “What happened?” He whispered.

Draco grimaced. “Weasley and his crew found me about midnight I think. Thank you for keeping my son safe.”

“But what happened,” Harry asked again, staying calm for Scorpius’s sake.

Draco glanced down at Scorpius’s and sighed. “Seems a small group of Muggle-born wizards riled each other up and decided to get revenge on the Death Eaters that had caused them grievous injustices during the war. Since the majority of the Death Eaters are dead, Kissed, or in Azkaban they agreed getting revenge on their next-of-kin substituted as fitting retribution. Calling themselves the Justice League or some rot.”

Harry frowned. “Were there others injured?”

Draco nodded. “Pansy Parkinson was kidnapped, and Goyle. A few others I didn’t know as well. Blaise Zabini was targeted but escaped. About fifteen of us altogether and not all were taken last night. Some had been in the cell for days.” He covered his face with his free hand. “Not...everyone was as fortunate as me,” he whispered, bending down to hug Scorpius tightly. “Pansy said the only reason they didn’t get her daughter was because of your jewelry.”

Harry swallowed. “I’m just happy that you are safe and sound and so is Scorpius.” He gently placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Can I help? In any way. Not just for your family but the others?”

Draco looked at him oddly. “You saved us. You did more than enough.” Draco stood and picked up his son. “I have to get home. My mother has been alone too long.”

Harry stepped away, trying not to feel hurt. “Of course. Will you be at the wedding tomorrow?” he asked as he followed Draco to the Floo.

Draco nodded. “Yes. It’s Luna,” he provided as an explanation. He tossed a handful of powder into the fire from the copper bowl Harry kept on the mantle. “Malfoy Manor,” he said. He stepped into the Floo without looking back at Harry. 

Something hard hit Harry’s shoulder. “Ow,” he muttered, picking up a small copper pebble that looked almost like an acorn. “What is-ow!” A second one hit his head from behind. He turned and glared through the open workshop door at the tree. It quivered and threw another. “Stop that!”

It took another hour before Harry figured out the tree was hungry and its roots had already cracked through the shop foundation and buried into the ground. He groaned and sent Ludwig, his owl, with a note to Gringotts to ask them to be on the lookout for any metal consuming tree roots. With his luck his tree would eat half the gold in London.

He had just finished coating Draco’s wrist cuffs with his adjusted formula when Draco actually stepped out of the Floo again. Harry put the cuffs under a Disillusionment Charm and then set about making tea while Draco stood nervously beside the fireplace. When Harry put two cups on the table, Draco finally breathed and took a seat. 

He looked better at least. The bruises on his face were already disappearing and his clothes were clean and very Draco, form-fitting and deep green with charcoal slacks. His hair was shorter and clean. Harry noticed Draco kept his wand out.

“How is Scorpius?” Harry finally asked after they’d both wordlessly finished a full cup of tea.

“Wonderful considering all that happened.” Draco smiled fondly at Harry. “He has nothing but praise for you. Thank you so much for protecting him.” He sighed. “And I’m sorry for rushing away earlier. It wasn’t you I was running from. I just needed to be home and I needed Scorpius there too.”

Harry reached out and cupped his fingers around Draco’s. “I would have done the same for any child, but I love that I was able to help him. I’m grateful he came to me.” He’d said it before but he would keep saying it until Draco got the point.

Draco squeezed back. “I received your patronus in the cell. You have no idea what that meant to me.”

Harry blushed and he froze in place as Draco’s rough lips touched his own. It was a reverent kiss, Harry thought, part thankful, part worshipping, and he kissed back, taking control to turn the kiss into something more elemental, fire and passion and want and lust. Draco groaned into his mouth, matching him as he passed Harry’s magic back to him, and then he pulled away, panting.

Harry was astounded at how aroused he was considering all that Draco had touched were his lips and hand. He panted. “Bedroom?” he asked, hoping Draco would say yes, hoping Draco would stay.

Draco swallowed and closed his eyes. “Harry,” he pleaded.

Harry let go of Draco’s fingers, willing his erection to subside. He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I would push, but considering you were beaten hours ago I will refrain. This time.”

Draco laughed, releasing the tension in the room. He wrapped his hand around Harry’s neck and pulled him closer until their foreheads touched. “I don’t know what this is, Harry, but you’re fast consuming me,” he whispered, sounding like he didn’t mind in the least.

“Will you be my date at the wedding?” Harry asked, dropping his hands so he could look into Draco’s grey eyes.

Draco smiled. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“You know I’m a bridesmaid, right?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

Draco’s chuckle wrapped around Harry like a warm blanket in winter.

***

“Harry, hurry up!” Hermione called from downstairs.

“We need another minute,” he called down, pinning another moonflower into Luna’s long curls. “Luna, I don’t think you can fit another thing into your hair. At all,” he told her seriously as he eyed the various ribbons, flowers, feathers, beads, gems, string and metal spirals. “It’s stunning though. You look beautiful.” He kissed her cheek. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she told him in her dreamy voice. She picked up the wooden box from the table. “Can you?” she asked, opening the lid. 

Harry smiled and reached in, pulling out the ruby necklace. Luna slipped the ring on her right hand and slipped the curling, spiraling earrings on as Harry closed the clasp around her neck. They both admired her image in the mirror, light on one side and dark beside. The pale blue dress she wore appeared ethereal and unusual, sheer and shiny except for the small short slip underneath. Like Luna’s hair, there were plenty of extras on the dress but it suited her.

“You look so grown up,” He commented, remembering another Luna with star earrings and a wand tucked behind her ear.

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” She told him, smiling fondly.

Harry laughed and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Luna took it. “Thank you for remembering to charm my shoes against Wrackspurts, Harry. I would like to have a clear mind today.”

Harry handed Luna off to her father when they reached the bottom and pretended not to notice when Xenophilius Lovegood started bawling, discreetly handing him a handkerchief. Hermione sniffed and Harry glared. “Don’t you dare,” he warned her. “I don’t have my handkerchief now.”

Hermione giggled and tucked one into his pocket. “I have extras,” she whispered back. She kissed Luna’s cheek and told her she looked beautiful before she opened the door and headed up the aisle as the music began.

Harry chuckled when he realized Luna and Rolf had chosen a soundtrack of Tibetan monks chanting. The air was thick with incense and a few of Rolf’s adventuresome friends were playing bongos off to the side. Harry thought he saw a dirigido.

He walked down the aisle next, taking in the complete transformation of the garden behind the Burrow. Luna had insisted Neville be in charge of the flower arrangements and he’d taken her request for a “magical atmosphere” to heart because every plant Harry saw had magical properties and curiosities. He hid his grin when he saw George swat at a creeping vine.

Rolf stood proud and bemused and slightly shocked at the end of the aisle, likely wondering how the whole day had come about, and his best friend, Edwardus Lima, Junior, stood beside him with his own curious smile. Draco sat near the front with Scorpius beside him and Rose sitting beside Scorpius. Ron waved from his seat next to Draco and Harry decided this was already the strangest wedding he’d ever attended and that included the one he attended for Seamus and Dean in Ireland in the middle of a rowdy Quidditch match.

Luna and Rolf held hands before all their friends and family, staring silently into each other’s eyes for a good ten minutes while Luna’s father sobbed into Rolf’s mother’s arms. She awkwardly patted his back and looked about for someone to rescue her. Harry wondered if the monks were still supposed to be chanting since no one had turned the music off but decided if Luna didn’t seem concerned it was probably by design. And so what if he spent five of those ten minutes shifting about to avoid a licentious Fanged Geranium? He swore if it pinched his arse one more time he would burn it.

Rolf finally tied a small piece of red twine around Luna’s finger and Harry handed Luna the curled spoon on a brown ribbon he’d been given earlier which she promptly slipped over Rolf’s head. They rubbed noses smiling as their marriage bond visibly wrapped and coiled around them in golden colors and then turned together holding up their joined hands, prompting everyone to stand and clap, even if no one was entirely certain if that was the end of the ceremony or not.

Harry pretended he wasn’t weepy.

Within the hour everyone had sampled George’s punch bowl and the party was loud and wild. Someone, probably Lee Jordan, had started up a game of Garden Gnome tag. Harry bent down and picked up Luna’s blue wedding dress from the ground and draped it over a chair, still sober enough to realize Luna might want to keep the dress later. He sat down in the empty chair next to it and wondered where Draco had disappeared to.

Scorpius approached and smiled. “ _May I sit with you?_ ” he signed.

“Of course,” Harry told him, surprised. He put his arm around the back of Scorpius’s chair and watched the others dancing to Muggle music Luna confided was commonly played at Muggle weddings in the United States. 

Scorpius seemed concerned. “ _What are they doing?_ ” he asked.

Harry chuckled. “I believe, if I remember correctly, that is the Electric Slide. Want to try it?”

Scorpius seemed to think Harry had hit his head. Harry laughed and scooted down further in his chair. “Can I ask you something?” Harry asked, smiling at the boy.

Scorpius nodded. 

“I would like permission to court your father.” Harry wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt the need to ask a seven year old for permission but it felt right. “I would like to date him.”

Scorpius took the question seriously and it seemed he wasn’t going to just agree. “ _Why?_ ” he signed.

Harry sighed. “So many reasons,” he laughed and realized the punch was much stronger than he thought. “For starters, your father drives me crazy. In a good way. Most of the time. I think he’s a good father,” he stated, waiting for Scorpius to confirm, “ and he’s bloody brilliant,” he added, wincing when he heard the curse slip out.

Scorpius covered his mouth over his silent giggle. “ _What else?_ ”

Harry thought about it. “He fit, you know. Handsome. And he makes me laugh. And there’s you, of course.” Scorpius raised his one eyebrow that always made Harry think of a younger Draco. “Well, you’re rather neat yourself.”

Scorpius looked down and swung his foot, tucking the other under him. “ _My mother doesn’t agree._ ”

“Your mother is missing out on something wonderful,” Harry said carefully, hiding the anger behind the thought. “Sometimes, people are given a gift that is absolutely priceless and they don’t know how to appreciate. Sometimes they learn the value, and other times they just don’t.”

Scorpius studied Harry thoughtfully. Harry answered the unspoken question. “My parents were killed when I was a baby. I was given to my Aunt and Uncle to raise and they...were a lot like your mum I think. It wasn’t until I was older that I had friends to teach me that I wasn’t a freak and I wasn’t some terrible burden like they’d always said I was.”

Scorpius bit his lip and then he reached out and curled into Harry’s side. Harry smiled and hugged the boy back. 

Draco stepped off the dance floor with a loud laugh, handing Hermione off to Ron with a hearty slap to Ron’s back. Ginny, who stood beside her brother, wrinkled her nose disdainfully at Draco but ignored him otherwise. Thankfully, Harry didn’t think Draco had seen the look.

Draco had eyes only for Harry, which sharpened like a lion spotting prey as he began to stalk closer to them with an intimidating focus. 

“There’s your dad,” Harry pointed out. “So, may I court him?” He smiled when he felt the timid nod against his chest. “Thanks,” he answered, smiling.

Draco stood before them, arms crossed in front of his chest. “What are you two doing? There is a party going on out there you know.” He held up a garden gnome, he blond hair mussed. “I caught this!” He was clearly excited by the prospect, though he did release it after showing it off.

Scorpius sat up and signed something rapidly to his father. Draco’s eyes grew big and he signed back, equally fast. Harry tried to follow but gave up quickly when he realized it was just too fast for his beginner eyes.

Scorpius hopped off the chair and signed again, pointing to Harry once and then his dad before signing again. Harry hoped it was favorable so he kept a smile on his face, sipping from his punch cup.

Draco finally signed again and then knelt and hugged his son, kissing his cheek. “You are an amazing son and I am thankful every day for you.” He released Scorpius and pushed him towards the dance floor. “Now go find Rose. She was looking for you.”

Scorpius perked up and walked calmly towards the others. Draco took his seat, stealing Harry’s punch and drinking it in one big swallow. Harry let him, admiring the movement of Draco’s adam’s apple as he drank. He watched a small bit slide down the side of Draco’s mouth and barely remembered they weren’t alone and licking it off Draco’s chin would probably be impolite in public.

“So, Scorpius said he gave you permission to court me?” Draco said, his voice strangely neutral.

“Well, I already asked your mother. She seemed pleased.” Harry smiled, hopeful. “Of course, the bracelet I sent with the request might have helped sway her.”

Draco grinned. “That would do it. Malfoys are practical people you know. What spells did you charm it with?”

“Healing spells. A Cheering Charm.” Harry shrugged. “There might be some shield gold involved.”

Draco didn’t laugh out loud but his shoulders shook with the effort to keep it contained. “Do I get any say in the matter?”

Harry turned, pulling up his leg so he could face Draco better, leaning his arm on top of the chair. “No, I don’t think so,” Harry flirted. “You’d only resist my efforts and I plan on being quite persuasive.”

Draco did laugh then. “I asked you out first.”

Harry nodded, acknowledging the fact. “True, but you’re the one who keeps pulling back. I’m just going to keep stepping forward until I have you.”

Draco touched Harry’s black hair wistfully. “You are so much more…enrapturing now, than you were in school.”

Harry shrugged. “I think we’ve always been drawn towards each other, but for once in our lives we don’t have to worry about outside influences.”

Draco leaned back, tilting his head to look at the stars. “So I noticed Scorpius has acquired some new jewelry and apparently my mother has a brand new bracelet. Feels like you’re courting everyone but me,” he joked.

Harry hesitated but slowly pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He held out the wrapped parcel to Draco. “I was going to give it to you later, but now is good.”

Draco sat up in surprise and took the present, obviously pleased. Harry remembered Draco had always loved getting presents back in school. Draco unwrapped the handkerchief and gasped when he saw the cuffs. They were made with rose silver and copper and etched with deep runes and posed dragons. “Beautiful,” Draco whispered, running his finger over the metal. He gasped as the metal moved beneath his fingers like supple leather. “How?”

Harry grinned. “Well, see, I was trying to make a potion to make metal feel more like cloth, and during one of my experiments I accidently replaced Salpeper with Stewed Dragon Dung Fertilizer…” Harry coughed.

Draco paled. “That would have exploded!”

Harry nodded sheepishly. “It made quite a mess.”

Draco scowled. “Harry!”

“Draco!” Harry replied back, his lips curving upward. He was getting fond of hearing Draco say his name like that, full of exasperation and worry. He wondered how it would sound in bed. “The end result is that the potion did actually work, kind of, but it made the metal feel more like leather than cloth. It took awhile before I figured out I had to add Venomous Tentacula Leaves to stabilize the potion without losing the effects.” He grinned. “And my last batch apparently gave my metal tree some life.”

Draco touched the cuffs again. “So these?”

Harry nodded. “When you wear them, you’ll likely feel them like a Familiar. The runes have different effects and you can direct the cuffs to do certain things based on the runes and your intent. I toned down the effects so the cuffs won’t have quite as much _will_ as my tree.”

Draco studied Harry intently and leaned forward until their lips were inches apart. “I know I said we can’t do this but you simply must stop by so irresistible.” 

He kissed Harry then and Harry melted, pushing his fingers through Draco’s hair like he’d been imagining every moment since Draco had walked into his shop a week ago. He groaned, his tongue dueling against Draco’s in an epic battle for control, first winning and then losing and then winning again. He tasted the punch mixed with Draco’s unique minty-ness and the sweet chocolate taste of Draco’s magic tingled against his own.

“See, I told you,” Harry heard. He parted from Draco and turned to see George leaning on Ron’s shoulder.

“Fuck, Harry, couldn’t you have waited at least another week?” Ron scowled and handed George a galleon. 

Draco looked bemused. “You bet on us kissing?”

Ron rolled his eyes dramatically and shoved George off his shoulder. “Oh please, that was obvious from the moment Rose came home Tuesday going on and on about Scorpius. I just thought it would be at least another week before Harry fessed up to the rest of us.”

“I said it would be tonight,” George smirked, drinking his punch. He frowned. “I think that Mum took the extra Firewhiskey out.” He stalked off towards the punch bowl.

Ron seemed skeptical as he looked at his own punch. “Seems plenty strong to me,” he muttered. He pointed his mug toward Draco. “Look, you’re still a right git but Hermione seems to think you’ve grown up and Harry looks happy. So long as he’s happy,” he said with a tinge of threat and promise. Then he grinned and hiccuped. “George, don’t ruin a perfectly good firewhiskey!” he hollered as he chased after his brother.

“Dinner?” Harry asked, twirling his finger in Draco’s soft hair.

“Now?” Draco asked, surprised.

“Tomorrow. I can cook.”

“You can cook?” Draco repeated, still looking just as surprised. He shook his head. “Nevermind, tomorrow is fine. I might have to bring Scorpius with me if Mother isn’t feeling well.”

Harry nodded. “Your son is always welcome in my home.”

Draco cupped Harry’s cheek and kissed him again. “Tomorrow,” he promised, his grey eyes heated. He slipped the cuffs over his wrist and then kissed Harry again. “And thank you,” he added. Draco rose like a satisfied cat and stalked off to find his son leaving Harry bemused on the bench, touching his lips thoughtfully.

***

Harry rested his head against the sales counter and groaned, flicking his wrist to lock the front door behind the last customer to finally leave. He couldn’t believe how absurdly busy the day had been considering he’d deliberately neglected to advertise his shop opening. 

It had been something of a shock to open the front doors at nine in the morning to see a friendly queue forming by the door. It had been something of a stampede of eager witches and wizards trying to get inside. Within the first hour he’d met his sales goal for the week so he immediately upped his prices to avoid actually selling out of stock. 

One witch eagerly confided that she’d been hoping for years for the opportunity to purchase one of his pieces and she’d been saving up for months after she heard he was finally opening a shop.

Harry was exhausted. There’d been no break for lunch though he had closed the shop for an hour, if only for the opportunity to get extra pieces out of the vault to restock his displays and sooth his frazzled furniture to relax a bit from feeling like stiff boards of wood and cement.

The tree was in fine form with all the customers coming and going, showing off it’s branches and leaves to all who would look. The sprite had been curious at first but one nasty child had thrown a rock at her and after that she’d stayed hidden under the lilies.

The knock on the front door sounded promptly at seven and Harry let Draco in, slightly disappointed Scorpius was in attendance but resigned that it was unlikely the evening would have progress much physically regardless. Draco kissed his cheek and opened the wine.

Harry finished up setting the roast on the table and added an extra place setting and everyone sat down. 

“So how was opening day?” Draco asked. “I had planned to stop by but Mother had another episode.”

“Is Narcissa alright?” Harry asked worriedly.

Draco glanced at Scorpius and shook his head when he saw the boy was cutting his meat into tiny even squares. “When my father was killed immediately after his trial, he panicked and pulled on the marriage bond. My mother almost died with him but I managed to cast a severing spell in time. It’s something every apprentice at St. Mungo’s is taught in their first year. The problem is that my mother didn’t want to let him go either, so while my father was pulling on her strength, she was pulling back on his. When the bond was severed, there was a blow-back that hit her.”

Harry leaned forward. “I don’t know as much about bonds as I probably should. I’ve never really considered entering in one since I managed to free myself from the one I inadvertently shared with Voldemort. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’ve shunned the topic.” He pushed his hair back with a sheepish smile. “What happens when the bond is severed like that? When neither person wants to let go?”

Draco shuddered. “Nothing good. She’s been slowly dying ever since. Some days are better than others but it’s getting to the point that none of my strengthening potions are working anymore.”

“Is there anything that can still be done?” Harry asked.

“Well, theoretically she could replace the bond. If she found a new person to bond with she could stop the leak in her magical core. If she did it soon enough. But at this point it’s been almost eight years and she is so weak I don’t know if anyone would survive bonding to her. She would need so much magic just to balance her system that her bondmate would likely end up utterly drained.” Draco sipped his wine.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry said sincerely. 

Draco reached out and squeezed his hand. “Enough though, how was your opening?”

Harry groaned. “My tree chased out two would-be thieves and froze a third for the Aurors to pick up, my sprite is in hiding and turned that whole corner into a devastating emotional wasteland of despair because some kid bullied her, and my chairs revolted and made it feel like people were sitting on bricks because some prick commented on the smooshiness of them and they were offended.” Harry pouted. “And my feet hurt.”

Scorpius laughed his silent laugh, his shoulders shaking in merriment. Even Draco cracked a smile though at least he tried to cover it up a bit.

“That good, huh?” 

Harry glared. “See if you get any sympathy from me in the future. Hooligans the both of you!”

Draco did laugh then, unable to suppress it when Harry just looked so resentful. “I’m sure tomorrow will be better.”

Harry looked horrified.

Draco and Scorpius didn’t stay late since the kid was yawning wide enough to crack his jaw and Draco worried about his mother home alone. They made plans to meet up again over the weekend. Draco kissed Harry hard before he left, holding Harry’s head in his hands as if he were afraid Harry would disappear, and Harry melted into the passion between them, blushing red when Scorpius winked at him when they finally broke apart.

Harry rested his head against the mantle of the Floo after they departed, feeling happy and frustrated. He wanted more, with every brush of Draco’s lips against his own. He decided to take a cold shower.

***

“We’re going out.” Draco was dressed warmly in a fur-trimmed cloak and hat and half his face was covered in a brilliant green cashmere scarf. Scorpius ran into the shop looking like a mini-Draco in matching attire.

Harry rubbed a fist under his glasses and yawned as he held the door open, shivering as an icy January wind followed them inside. “We are what?” He asked, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“Out,” Draco repeated. He frowned at Harry’s sleep clothes. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Harry glanced down and seemed surprised to find himself in pants. “I was sleeping,” he said dumbly. “Why are we going out? Isn’t there a blizzard?”

“Potter, it is Saturday. We made plans to go out on Saturday,” Draco said, mustering up some patience.

Harry winced when the tree dropped a handful of cooper walnuts on his head. “Fuck!” he muttered, glaring at the tree. “I swear! I will melt you!”

The tree shook with mock terror and then its branches shook with laughter. 

“Language, Potter,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Merlin, Draco, it’s still dark outside if you haven’t noticed! And that tree is a menace!” 

Scorpius tugged on Harry’s pants and Harry had to grab them before he gave Draco a free show. “ _We are going to the zoo. Rose is coming!_ ”

Harry sighed, accepting defeat. “I’m not going back to bed, am I?”

Scorpius shook his head.

An hour later, Harry stood shivering under a tree with a cup of warm chocolate in his mittened hands. He let the steam fog up his glasses as he tried to bring feeling back to his nose. Hermione seemed much too chipper as she caught Draco up on hospital gossip, her own gloved hands resting comfortably on her engorged stomach. Draco seemed happy to listen, making all the right sounds in all the right places, though his eyes were focused on Scorpius as he leaned over the rail to look at the sleeping tiger.

“See, even the animals are still sleeping,” Harry grumbled.

“I bought you chocolate, Potter, you’re supposed to be happy now,” Draco informed him.

“You’re supposed to be happy now,” Harry grumbled, not caring that he made no sense. “Why is the zoo even open this early?”

“Fred, I swear if you fall in I will let the tiger eat you,” Hermione told him angrily as Frederick Jordan leaned way over the rail.

“Aw, Aunt ‘Mione, you wouldn’t!” He said back over his shoulder. His grin was all-knowing cheek. “You’d rescue me. Or Uncle Harry for sure.”

“Mum would leave you down there. That’s how you learn,” Rose informed him wisely. She tilted her head. “I wouldn’t try it. And Uncle Harry is still asleep. You’d be in the belly of the tiger before he saved you.”

Scorpius studied the two redheads with an almost scientific fascination. 

Harry shuddered as another cold wind blew his wool hat off his head when he sneezed, spilling some hot chocolate on his wrist. “Draco, this is ridiculous. It’s freezing. Look at this! There is snow on the ground. In London!” He winced at the mild burn and mourned the loss of sweet simultaneously.

“It’s England,” Draco informed him, picking up the red hat, dusting the light snow off, and then jamming it back on Harry’s head. He tugged it over Harry’s ears, stepped back to examine it, and then stepped forward to straighten it. “You said we could do something away from the shop.” He held Harry’s wrist and examined it, then cast a healing charm over the redness and smiled with satisfaction when it disappeared.

“Indoors,” Harry whinged. “Like bowling.”

Draco blinked. “Bowling?”

“Oh, Harry! What a wonderful idea! I don’t think I’ve ever taken Rose. Or Ron for that matter.”

“You can’t bowl, ‘Mione. You’re seconds from popping,” he informed her, wincing when he whacked him upside the head. “You’re beautiful, honest,” he corrected.

“What’s bowling?” Draco asked, curious.

“Well, you take a round heavy ball, stick your fingers in the holes, and then roll it down a slippery wooden alley to try and knock down ten weighted pins on the other side without getting your ball stuck in the gutters on the side,” Harry said, sipping his chocolate.

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Draco asked, raising one eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never played. The Dursleys never let me. Looked fun though.”

“Let’s do it next weekend,” Hermione decided. “We can take the kids and invite the whole family, see who else might want to come. I’ll go ahead and reserve a bunch of lanes tomorrow and send out invitations. Draco, send me a list of names for anyone you may wish to invite.”

Draco looked uncomfortable. “Oh, er…..right.”

Harry snickered.

Draco scooped up a handful of snow and threw it into Harry’s face.

***

Why did Harry have to pick bowling anyway? If he’d known how torturous it would be to watch Draco patiently, prudently, obsessively, nit-picky-ily (it’s a word, damn it) spend whole quarters of an hour lining up his shot, waving his arse suggestively at Harry, taunting him by pushing his fingers in and out of the holes in the ball…..Harry groaned and let his head fall back. 

Hermione and Ron had long since abandoned him and Draco for another lane with the kids. Ron joked he’d be celebrating his son’s first birthday before Malfoy managed to complete an entire game. Harry feared he might be right. They were only on the fifth round of their first game while the others were all well into their third and fourth games.

“Draco, just throw it.”

“You can’t rush perfection, Potter.”

“Draco, I think I can see a gray hair growing in your head.”

Draco gasped and dropped the bowling ball, clutching his head with both hands. “What!”

Harry laughed hard enough to snort cola from his nose. Draco scowled and then beamed and did a little dancing hop with his fist in the air when his slow rolling ball somehow made it all the way down the lane and knocked over all ten pins in a slow-moving avalanche.

“No way,” Ron said, gaping.

“Suck it, Weasley!” Draco said, happily. “For I am a bowling god!”

Harry buried his face in his hands. Draco now led with five strikes to Harry’s measly twenty-six points. He got up to take his shot, discreetly adjusting his growing erection. “Fuck,” he muttered, licking his lips. If only the stupid git wasn’t so sexy. 

Harry lined up the shot and swung his arm back.

“Merlin, there’s no way that will fit,” Draco said behind him. 

“What?” Harry asked, letting the ball go.

“Fuck, Potter, watch it!” Draco yelled, jumping out of the way as Harry’s bowling ball rolled past him. “The pins are the other way!”

“Language!” Hermione chided disapprovingly, putting her hands over her belly as if to cover its baby ears.

“Blimey, ‘Mione, you can fault the man for calling it like it is,” Ron joked. “Harry, mate, you bowl worse than Ginny!”

“Hey!” Ginny hollered back from her lane. “I’ll have you know my stats are twice as high as Harry’s!”

“Stick to brooms!” Ron called back. “Seriously, Harry, the pins are in front of you.”

Harry’s face felt hot enough to melt snow. “Enough, I’m trying to focus!” He grinned at Scorpius, who was busy giggling with Rose. “Scorpius, help me! By this point you’ve got four more games of practice than me.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes and scooted off his chair, calmly walking over to Harry to show him how to bowl. 

“ _Watch_ ” the boy signed. He held up an imaginary ball and waited for Harry to match his position. Then he moved Harry around until he felt satisfied with everything. Stepping back into place, he slowly showed Harry how to line up the ball and swing.

Harry followed through and cheered when he knocked over four pins, the most he’d managed so far. “Scorpius, look!”

The boy rolled his eyes and looked back at his father, clearly communicating the hopelessness of the situation.

“You gotta do it granny style,” a Muggle boy in the lane next to them said. He held his ball between his legs and tossed the ball.

Scorpius gestured to Harry as if to say, “ _Well, get on with it._ ”

Harry laughed and did so, groaning when the ball when right into the gutter.

The boys both looked shocked. “Sorry, mate, you’re terrible,” the Muggle boy told him and went back to his game. Scorpius patted Harry’s leg sympathetically and went to take his own turn.

Harry sat down next to Draco feeling utterly defeated. Draco touched Harry’s shoulder and reached out to turn Harry’s head. He placed a gentle kiss on Harry’s lips and smiled. “Thank you.”

Bemused, Harry smiled. “What for? Letting you win?”

Draco scoffed and tugged on Harry’s messy hair. “No, you prat, for being you.” He got up to bowl. Fifteen minutes later he made another strike.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve done this before,” he accused.

Draco’s grin was practically predatory in smugness. “Harry, I’m a Slytherin. You gave me a week of warning. Scorpius and I have been here every day since last Saturday.”

Harry barked a laugh and then found himself laughing even harder. His shoulders shook and he clutched his stomach to hold in the pain from laughing so hard. His eyes watered and still he couldn’t stop. 

Rose began to giggle too though she clearly had no idea why. Before too long, the entire group was corrupted into uncontrollable giggles.

Hermione gasped and wiped her eye. “Harry, oh my, stop!” She giggled again, sitting down when she couldn’t stand anymore.

Ron’s deep laugh was loud and whooping. He slapped Harry’s back which only made Harry laugh harder. Even Draco gave in and chuckled. 

“Oh dear,” Hermione said, suddenly serious. She looked down and then burst into giggles again. “Ron, the baby is coming.”

Ron snorted and then froze. “Oh dear!” He stood and tripped over the pile of all the children’s shoes. “The baby!” He whipped out his wand. “Hermione! Oh Merlin! Make space! Harry! We need hot water!”

Draco stood and calmly put his arm around Hermione. “Come on, let’s let the others get everything ready. St. Mungo’s is just across the street.”

Hermione smiled. “You knew!”

Draco tapped his nose and led Hermione out as she confided, “Ron was just as bad when Rose was born. Spent half the delivery lying passed out on the floor.”

Ron came back from the loo with his hands cupped with water. “Harry, the baby!”

Harry was already paying for all the games while Ginny and Lee Jordan helped everyone into their shoes. “Ron, put your shoes on!”

Scorpius put his hand into Harry’s and smiled. Harry ran his fingers through the blond hair. “Your father is wonderful,” Harry told the boy, who clearly already knew.

***

Harry ducked and snarled at his stupid tree. “Shite, stop that!” He picked up the braided copper, tin, and steel branch from the floor. “Where did you get into steel?” he asked, horrified.

The tree threw another branch at him and this one didn’t miss. Harry winced and rubbed his head. “It’s just a diagnostic spell! Like to see if you’re sick! Don’t you want to know if you’re healthy?” he asked, putting all his persuasive abilities into his tone. 

The tree rained down a bunch of steel shavings into his hair. “Damn it!” Harry threw the branch at the trunk. “Fine! Bloody be that way!”

The new door chime jingled and Harry glanced around the tree, surprised to see Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass enter into his shop.

“Er, welcome?” he asked, hoping it sounded more like a statement. “How can I help you?”

Astoria raised one pale eyebrow at Harry and looked him over from toe to head and back, and then she sniffed, clearly unimpressed. “You can stop this silly affair of yours with my husband.”

Harry’s mouth flew open and he stepped back. “Excuse me?”

“You aren’t stupid, you heard me,” Astoria said with an unattractive sneer. “We are not divorced yet, Harry Potter. If you touch my husband again before the bond is dissolved I will sue you and Draco for Breach of Bond.” Her grin was unkind. “I could care less for the damaged brat, but I’ll get full custody in the swish of a wand if it will punish my husband.”

Harry straightened and returned her glare. “Mrs. Malfoy, I don’t know what you think you know but you are mistaken. Draco and I are just friends.” He was lying a bit, but despite their growing friendship and fledgling romance, they had barely done more than kiss. Harry respected Draco too much to do anything that could jeopardize him in any way.

Astoria stepped forward, her face ugly with hate. “Every time he touches you, it burns along our bond, Potter. Every kiss, every passionate thought, every brush of his lips against yours, I feel it.”

Harry was horrified. He struggled to keep his face clear. “Then you clearly are aware that those cases have been few and far between. Draco respects your bond.”

Astoria snorted. “I’ve said what I came to say. Touch him again and I will make him pay.” She swirled around and stormed from the shop. Thankfully, no one else was in the shop that afternoon and it was close enough to closing Harry went ahead and locked the door behind her, grateful it was officially the weekend.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at all the metal shavings that fell out. He startled when he felt something cold pat his shoulder. “You’re bloody unbelievable!” he ranted at the tree. “You are twice as mean to me as she was just now and you want to comfort me!”

The tree rustled and gave him a copper rose.

Harry took it and sniffed. “Fine, you’re forgiven. If-” he drew out, warning the excitable tree, “you let me run a diagnostic on you.”

The tree drooped and Harry grinned, taking out his wand. It took awhile but Harry managed to get through the spell and put some adjustments on all the charms, jinxes, and hexes that layered the tree. It shook and shivered at certain points, delighting Harry with the discovery that the tree was actually ticklish, but once the process was complete it seemed both Harry and the tree were happy.

The Floo whooshed and Harry stood, wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “Harry?” Draco’s voice called out from the back.

“One minute,” he called back, setting his wards and casting the Put-Away clean-up spell on the shop so that everything would go back into the displays and all the dust and dirt from the usual shop traffic vanished.

Harry closed out the till and locked the earnings into the vault before heading upstairs to join Draco. The table was set and Draco was lighting a candle with his wand, chuckling when he saw Harry. “Did you get the name of the tree that you fought?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Harry mocked. “Going to shower real quick. I think he managed to get steel shavings in my pants.”

“Sounds rather kinky, Potter.”

Harry grimaced. “As much as I’d love to continue the banter I should tell you that your wife stopped in today.” He shut the door and began to strip, frowning at the state of his clothing. He opted to just vanish the whole thing rather than worry about running metal through his washer. 

“Why did Astoria come to see you?” Draco asked hesitantly through the bathroom door. 

“I’ll tell you when I get out,” he replied, turning on the tap as hot as he thought he could stand. He felt the water and then stepped under the spray, shaking his head carefully to get the shavings out of his hair first.

“Harry, tell me now,” Draco said, clearly inside the bathroom now.

“She threatened us. Said if we so much as touch she will make us pay.”

Draco swore. “Why does she care? We are days from our divorce going through. She moved out of the Manor weeks ago, and from what my solicitor says she’s actually living with Marcus Flint now and I have heard from a few sources he’s already proposed and she accepted.”

Harry shrugged, enjoying the hot water, and then realized Draco couldn’t see him. “I don’t know why she cares, Draco. I’m getting out.”

Draco practically purred. “Merlin Potter, I would give the entire Black vault to see you step out of this shower, covered in warm water, and for the opportunity to push you back against the wall and bury myself into you, fucking you as you beg for more.”

Harry shivered and shut the water off, his eyes blurry as he wished he could see through the curtain. “Fuck.”

“Oh we will,’ Draco promised. “Soon.” He closed the door behind him. Harry turned the water back on and began to fist himself, his eyes closed as he pictured Draco’s face as he told Harry how he wanted him, imagining the cold tiles against his palms and the sharp pain of Draco’s fingernails digging into his hips as Draco buried himself to the hilt in Harry’s arse. It was but moments before he spilled into his hand, groaning as the pleasure filled him and left down the drain leaving him feeling sated and lethargic.

He stepped out of the bathroom and hurriedly dressed in his room before sitting across from Draco at his small kitchen table. He picked up a takeaway carton of curry and spooned some into his bowl, making sure the rice Draco had already served him was plenty covered.

“Enjoy your second shower?” Draco asked, resting his chin on his fists as he leaned onto the table thoughtfully.

Harry kept his face down but peeked up at Draco through his black fringe. “Very,” he said quietly, smirking when he saw Draco blush. They ate quickly.

“This is our first dinner alone,” Harry commented suddenly, fork halfway to his mouth. He frowned. “Where is Scorpius?”

“With my mother. She was feeling well tonight and offered.” 

Harry smiled. “Will you stay? We don’t have to…” He looked away. “Touch or anything.”

Draco shook his head and ate his last spoonful. “Soon,” he promised.

“I’m going back to work on Monday,” he added. “Mother’s decline has stabilized again and with the tutor back from holiday there will be someone at the Manor during the day just in case anything happens.”

Harry nodded. “If you need any help, let me know. I have the shop to run but I don’t mind if Scorpius stays here.”

They did the washing up together, something Harry was surprised when Draco first offered weeks back at their first dinner in his flat, but it had become a comforting ritual between them since the struggle to not touch grew harder every day.

Suddenly Draco dropped a plate and gasped, clutching his chest. Harry quickly shut the water off and dried his hands, reaching out for Draco’s shoulder.

He flinched back. “No don’t touch me! She’s…” He groaned and grew pale. “How could she?” He gasped and shuddered, moaning in pain as he sank to the floor.

“Breathe,” Harry instructed, careful to keep his hands from Draco. “What’s wrong? We can apprate to St. Mungo’s.”

Draco breathed and shivered, his forehead sweaty. He rested back against the cabinets. “No, it’s fine. It’s fading.”

“What happened?”

Draco sighed. “It was her warning. Astoria. She let Flint give her a bloody orgasm.” Draco’s snarl was cruel as his grey eyes darkened noticeably. “It’s part of the bond. Anything sexual that occurs with someone not part of the bond causes pain to the other. It’s supposed to be a failsafe. She was giving me a warning.”

Harry bit his lip, holding in his thoughts.

“I have to go,” Draco decided, heaving himself off the ground. He closed his eyes and swayed. “Harry…”

“It’s fine,” Harry told him, not really feeling that way but not really seeing an alternative. “It’s not your fault.”

Grey eyes bore into his green ones. “I want you, Harry. You are mine. I will never let you go,” he stated. It was meant to sound threatening, Harry thought, but instead he only felt his erection harden all over again.

“Yes,” Harry promised.

***

Harry locked up the shop and collapsed into his chair, not even chastising the water sprite when it playfully splashed him with cold water. He groaned, sinking into the soft cushions as he rested his feet on the table. He knew he had to tidy up and close the till still before heading over to St. Mungo’s to grab dinner with Draco but for just a moment he wanted to relax.

It had been a hard month since he had opened Charmed Occasions and business had been steady and growing from Day One. Harry was glad he’d managed to stockpile some backups before he opened because he had not been prepared for the demand. He’d already increased his prices four times since the first day in an effort to reduce demand but it only seemed to keep skyrocketing.

He heard a knock on the front door and he considered ignoring it but after the events a month ago with Scorpius he knew he’d always answer now. With a moan he got to his feet and opened the door.

George handed him a coffee and smiled. “Hi, Harry.”

Harry took the coffee eagerly. “George, my hero.”

George laughed and stepped inside, letting Harry lock the door behind him. “I’ll be quick, just had a quick proposition for you.”

Harry directed him to the consulting corner and sipped on his coffee. “What’s up? For coffee I might give you anything.”

George crossed his leg and leaned forward. “You know Anise, the girl who helps out in my shop?”

Harry didn’t but nodded.

“She has a sister who just moved to London a couple of weeks ago. Now she’s fresh out of Hogwarts, mind you, but her magic isn’t all that strong and she’s been struggling to find a job. Her scores were decent in theory, straight Acceptables, but she tends to fail the practicals.” George pulled a scroll out of his pocket and handed it to Harry.

Harry unrolled it and quickly looked it over. ‘Muggleborn, father is a jeweler.”

George nodded. “Anise asked me if Lissa could work part-time in the shop while she takes classes at that Muggle university, King’s College I think, but honestly I just don’t need the help. Ginny helps out during the Quidditch off-season and between Anise and I and Angelina we usually have everything covered.”

“So you think I should hire her?” Harry asked, taking note of Lissa’s courses and upcoming class schedule. “I admit, I hadn’t really considered it yet but Draco brought up the idea recently and it seemed like something to think about.” He chewed his lip. “Tell you what, send her in for an interview. It concerns me a little about her magic since all my jewelry is spelled, and now I’ve got this,” he added, pointing over his shoulder at the living tree, “to deal with, but we can see.”

The tree shook and held out a branch with copper roses for George to admire. George clucked approval, hiding his wariness when the tree dropped one into his hands with a flourish. 

“Stop giving away materials,” Harry griped, not for the first time. The tree ignored him.

Harry let George out and locked up, setting the wards for the night. He cleaned quickly and then stepped into the Floo and went to St. Mungo’s.

Draco was waiting for him when he stumbled out, and Harry blushed as Draco steadied him and then brushed off coal dust and Floo powder from Harry’s robes and hair. “Harry!” Draco said, beaming as he straightened Harry’s glasses. “It’s done!”

Harry wasn’t sure why Draco was in such a wonderful mood but if Draco was happy then he was. “Wonderful!” he enthused, trying to remember if he’d forgotten something. “What’s done?” he asked carefully when he couldn’t think of anything.

“My marriage! Astoria signed the papers today and we are officially divorced.” Draco grabbed Harry’s arms and pulled him close, kissing him. It was just as fulfilling as their first kiss almost five weeks ago. Harry melted into the feelings as their magic mingled and curled between them warmly. He felt a tug on his heart, a desire to just surrender to Draco and disappear into a supply cupboard, struggling against weeks of building need.

“Congratulations,” Harry told him, smiling against Draco’s lips.

Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s. “My shift doesn’t end until tomorrow afternoon since I’m on a forty-eight hour, and I have a potion brewing they needed ‘yesterday’ but then I’m off for two days. Can we celebrate tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

Harry perked up and felt a similar answer in his pants. He groaned. “You are such a tease,” he whispered, shifting.

“Not this time,” Draco promised. “Please?”

Harry smiled. “Come to my home. I’ll make us dinner.”

Draco looked at Harry like he’d just discovered something amazing. He kissed Harry hard and fierce and then stepped back. “Thank you, Harry!”

Harry laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets as Draco hurried back to his lab. Knowing the likelihood of Draco remembering to eat was minimal, Harry went to the canteen and ordered Draco dinner and then left it on Draco’s desk with a warming charm and a note.

He took the Floo home smiling.

***

Lissa Pembleton was a small girl with a pixie face and pixie hair that made her look like a tiny elf from a Muggle film. Her hair was dyed much like Draco’s looked naturally and she’d added some flairs of pinks and turquoise to round it out. She had at least six piercings in each ear, a stud in her nose, a full sleeve of tattoos on her left arm and she’d started on the right. Harry privately thought it likely her appearance that was making it challenging to get a Ministry job, but he liked her quirky look. 

She reminded him of Luna at first but quickly disposed of that thought after she’d chattered nonstop for the entire thirty minutes she’d spent in his shop so far as she’d made herself at home in his kitchen making a pot of tea and setting out biscuits. She was more like Molly and Bill Weasley than Luna Lovegood, who guarded her wise, nonsensical words like dragon guards its eggs.

Lissa leaned forward eagerly. “So? Can I work here? It’s simply brilliant, you see. I think your tree would like a name. And your sprite is adorable! I absolutely love that necklace in the display by the window. I think the rubies are the perfect choice to pair with that bronze and it’s obviously a high quality cut. If you double the price too then you’ll likely sell it faster because people expect to pay top galleons for quality and if you don’t charge enough then you undervalue the piece. Which you know, of course, but I still think you can up the prices. I think you could probably also make a display of those wooden boxes you have hidden in your vault in the corner and maybe pair them with some of those rune leather bracelets you have in this box. Can I keep this one? Thanks! They have an edgier vibe then the jewelry and that’s added clientele for the shop. Oh, say you’ll hire me! I have so many ideas!”

Harry barely managed not to laugh at her eagerness. “Look, you did well identifying the gem qualities and I definitely could use the help. Can you tell me what your long term goals are though? Are you hoping to eventually do more than work in the shop floor and possibly learn the jewelry or Charm aspect of the business or will you likely work in the shop just until you finish your schooling? Not that it really matters either way but I’d like to know for planning purposes.”

He was pleased when Lissa seriously considered the question instead of brushing it off or giving him the answer she thought he might want, her small face scrunching up as she pondered. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I would think, at the moment, I’d probably like to stick to the shop. My father sold jewelry so I’m comfortable with all that but I’ve never really cared for the creative aspect.” She shrugged, her thin shoulders moving up and down dramatically. “But, I don’t know. I might like to learn eventually.” She pointed to her hair. “I change my mind a lot.”

Harry decided he couldn’t fault her for her honesty, but he hesitated. “Will you change your mind about working here?”

Lissa’s laugh sounded like windchimes and the tree shook merrily with pleasure. “No, I won’t. I stick to my big choices. Hufflepuff,” she confided gravely.

Harry held out his hand. “Well then, Lissa, let’s give this a try. I offer you a three month probationary period and if we suit then I will offer permanent employee.”

Lissa shook his hand enthusiastically with both of hers cupped around his. “Thank you, Mr. Potter, sir, you shan’t regret it!” 

Harry laughed. “Call me Harry,” he told her as he shook his hand out.

He locked the shop behind her as she hollered “See you tomorrow!” through the door.

Harry glanced at the tree and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

The tree shook and swayed and dropped copper roses onto the ground. 

“I think so too.”

Harry was in a great mood as he cooked dinner. When he’d first moved out of 12 Grimmauld Place, Kreacher had refused to move with him. Harry had given the home to Andromeda and Teddy and the old house-elf had been pleased enough to stay. 

Draco arrived early with a large bottle of wine and pleasant smile. He’s dressed casually in dark jeans, for Harry of course, and a dark purple jumper, but he still had on his expensive dress shoes and a tie. He kissed Harry fondly on both cheeks and poured them both a glass.

“To new beginnings,” Draco toasted.

“Cheers to that,” Harry agreed, and sipped his drink. He turned to the stove and finished the preparing the pasta and parmigiana chicken and watched as Draco set the table. They settled companionably around the small round table in Harry’s dining room and chatted about their news.

Harry almost couldn’t remember a time before dinners with Draco. It had only been a few short weeks but he felt more at home eating with the Malfoys then he did sitting alone at his table. He sipped his wine and laughed when Draco talked about Scorpius’s face when he fell in the lake behind the Manor after Rose had tricked him into looking for Merfolk.

Draco’s laugh was full and rich and he wiped his eyes with his finger. “Oh Merlin, you should have seen it. He didn’t say a word, of course, but he spoke volumes with his face. If a glare could have boiled away the lake we’d have a giant hole of mud to fill.” Draco laughed again, snorting. “Not to mention, poor Rose! She just stared him down and he glared right back.”

Harry chuckled. “He reminds me of you as a boy,” he said fondly. “He arches his right eyebrow in just that way…”

Draco raised his eyebrow in just that way. “Potter, what on earth are you talking about? I have never carried that imperial disdain.”

Harry snorted. “Right.” He smiled. 

Draco pushed up his sleeves and rested on his elbows. It was the most relaxed Harry had ever seen him.

“You’re wearing your cuffs!” Harry exclaimed happily. “How do they feel?”

Draco touched them. “I forget they are there half the time and the other half they gently prod me to use them when I least expect it. I was administering a potion to a patient yesterday who was allergic to the Gillyweed in it. The cuffs actually prevented me from letting the patient drink it. It was amazing.”

Harry blushed. “They might end up getting a bit opinionated. If that happens let me know and I can adjust the formula on them. The tree downstairs is beyond hope but I can still work on the cuffs a bit.”

Draco grinned. “They’re fine so far.”

Harry traced his fingers over the etchings in the cuffs, enjoying the way the gold moved under his fingertips. Draco drew in his breath and shuddered. “You can feel this?” Harry asked?

Draco’s face grew red and he nodded. “It’s as if you were touching my skin.”

Harry bent down and replaced his fingers with his lips, allowing his tongue to trace the dragon. Draco groaned, his arm tense in Harry’s hand. Grinning now, Harry continued to trail kisses up Draco’s arm, kissing over the Dark Mark tattoo on Draco’s arm.

“Don’t,” Draco asked, tugging.

Harry refused to let go. “It’s just a tattoo. A scar, just like mine.” Harry pointed to the lightning bolt on his forehead.

Draco shook his head, ashamed. “Not like yours, Harry. It was a choice. The wrong one, of course, but it is mine to regret.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s in the past, Draco. We have the future to look forward to and I would like to spend it cherishing you. All of you.” This time when he kissed the mark, Draco let him though it clearly still bothered him.

“Come,” Harry said, tugging Draco to his feet.

“Where to?” Draco asked, rising.

“Where else?” Harry smirked and pulled him toward the bedroom. “Where I can cherish you properly.

Finally, after weeks of frustration, Harry was allowed to do more than steal a kiss from guilty lips. Draco was fully engaged, his mouth seeking Harry’s with enthusiastic precision, groaning as Harry’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Harry pulled Draco’s jumper over his head, pausing only long enough to get the cloth out of the way before he brought his lips back to meet Draco’s. His fingers immediately reached for Draco’s jeans, popping the button free and easing the zip down carefully.

He wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock, gasping at the thickness that swelled in his palm. Already he could imagine the hardness of Draco’s cock easing inside him, sliding in and out, pounding away against his arse. Harry bit Draco’s bottom lip and then released Draco’s erection in surprise when Draco gave him a shove onto the bed. 

“Strip,” Draco demanded, breathing hard. His hair was completely mussed and in disarray from Harry’s fingers and his lips were swollen from Harry’s kisses. He looked utterly debauched and ravished.

Harry’s arousal was peaked, his own erection swollen painfully inside his jeans. He tugged his jumper off quickly and tossed it aside, and his jeans joined in record time. It wasn’t a slow strip tease, they’d long moved past the time that might be possible. Draco watched hungrily, his silver dragon’s eyes focused completely on Harry as they traveled from Harry’s face to his toes and back again, appreciating everything. 

“Your pants as well,” Draco purred.

Harry moaned, closing his eyes as his cock swelled more at the husky order. Slowly, teasingly, he reached his hand into his pants and squeezed around the base of his cock. “Please,” he begged, his hips moving up on their accord as he strained towards Draco arching his back.

“Take them off,” Draco said again, his cajoling tone promising a richness of rewards. Draco’s hands came to his hips and he slowly pushed his dark jeans down, still watching Harry.

Harry panted and finally did as told, carefully pulling the elastic of his pants over his hips and cock and then he tossed them to the side with the rest of his clothes. He lay there on the bed whimpering with need, completely naked for Draco’s pleasure and perusal, and utterly ready for his touch. 

Draco’s eyes burned with fierce joy as he stepped out of his own pants, and he crawled slowly onto the bed, stalking toward Harry with predatory allure, kissing Harry’s ankle, his knee, his hip, his stomach, never breaking his gaze away from Harry’s green eyes.

It was magical. The air hummed with the power building between them and Harry panted, trying to keep control before he ended up burning down his flat. 

“Let go,” Draco whispered against Harry’s mouth before pressing his lips against Harry’s, dragging his cock like fire against Harry’s cock as he nestled between Harry’s legs. He held Harry’s wrists above their heads, ravishing and nipping Harry’s neck and shoulder as he rolled his hips against Harry’s, dripping pre-come and spreading it to slide with ease. 

Harry tugged against Draco’s hands, “Please, Draco, please,” he begged. “I have to touch you,” he cried out, pleasure numbing his mind as he arched his back. He felt feverish with joy and desire, driven to consume everything Draco could give him. “I never get to touch you. It’s been months since I’ve touched you.”

“Don’t move your arms,” Draco demanded, his lips quirked with silent amusement, and Harry flushed with pleasure as Draco dominated him. Draco released Harry’s wrists and he found himself helpless to move, wanting to please Draco anyway he could.

His cock strained and swelled and he gasped as the warm heat of Draco’s mouth came around him. Draco choked on the length and eased back but after the first few moments he seemed to get the hang of it as he continued to suck and pull and lick Harry into submission.

Harry couldn’t help it and he thrust slightly into Draco’s mouth, moaning with want and need. He felt a pressure behind him and cried out as he felt Draco thrust two moistened fingers into his passage. A coolness wrapped around his cock as Draco coated Harry’s cock with lubricant in his other hand while his fingers continued to scissor and twist in Harry’s arse. The knowledge of Draco’s wandless magic pushed Harry over and he shivered with the pressure to hold back from coming.

“Draco, fuck me,” Harry cried out, pushed back against Draco’s fingers, arching his back as his cock thrust into Draco’s tight fist. He groaned as the fingers were pulled out and then tensed as he felt a thickness replace it, slowly sheathing itself inside him.

“Relax,” Draco said, kissing Harry’s mouth with a gentleness missing from their bed so far. He coaxed Harry calmly, sweetly, easily as he slowly slid himself into Harry. Harry threw his head back as pain and pleasure mixed together in his mind, his cock leaking pre-come against his belly and Draco’s as his lover buried himself into Harry.

Draco gasped, nibbling Harry’s shoulder as sweat dripped down his forehead. “So much. Too much,” he said, shaking with the effort to hold still.

Harry strained his legs against Draco’s shoulder, thrusting upward. “Move, please, Draco, fuck me,” he panted and shuddered as Draco’s cock rubbed against his prostate. “Again,” he pleaded.

Draco smiled, his lips opening like a rosebud against Harry’s shoulder. “As you wish,” he whispered, and then he moved.

It was like music, Harry reflected as pleasure burst in a colorful crescendo behind his eyes. Draco pounded and moved and thrust and rolled into Harry, biting and nipping and scratching where he could reach. Harry’s nails raked across Draco’s back, pulling him closer as he kissed the man fiercely, pulling Draco’s magic into him as he gave Draco his own magic in return. The room grew thick and heavy with the scent of mint and citrus and electric tingle of power rippled against their flesh and lit the room with an eerie pale glow. 

Draco pulled out long enough to flip Harry over onto his hands and knees before he thrust back into Harry’s hole, driving him forward until Harry had to brace himself against the headboard. The glow pulsed in steady chimes and streamed around their moving bodies like a ribbon before it settled into their skin with burning pleasure.

“So close,” Harry warned desperately, and Draco sat him back onto his knees, drilling himself as deep into Harry as he could as he climaxed hard inside him, and Draco wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock, squeezed and pumped once until Harry cried out and came as well, spilling come onto his chest and bedsheets.

Lips trailed against his shoulders, lovingly worshiping Harry as Draco held him tightly against his chest. “Harry, beautiful, wonderful,” Draco murmured as he shook.

Harry let his head fall back onto Draco’s shoulder and he tilted his head to kiss Draco, brushing his lips once, twice, three times against Draco’s mouth and chin and neck.

They curled up tightly against each other, not even bothering to clean up, just breathing in the scents of sweat and sex and magic as they cooled down. 

“Sleep,” Draco told Harry, wrapping his arms around the man as he curled protectively around him. And Harry found it impossible to resist, smiling as he rested.

***  
Three months later

Scorpius handed Harry a piece of colored glass and then picked up one for himself. He fit it in the iron frame where he wanted and picked up another. Harry nodded his approval and shifted some of his pieces around to complement Scorpius’s colors better.

The shop was quiet for once, and Harry was glad. It was Lissa’s day off and Draco had asked Harry to keep Scorpius for the day since Narcissa wasn’t feeling well. Draco’s “underling” had called out sick so he had to go in to St. Mungo’s unexpectedly. It was Scorpius’s idea to make the stained glass window for Draco’s upcoming birthday and it was hard to find time for just the two of them to work on the present without Draco stumbling upon it.

“I think we can probably melt the glass soon,” Harry pondered. “Do you want to contribute?” Harry asked the tree.

The tree dropped a handful of different colored leaves onto Scorpius’s pile and puffed in pride when Scorpius immediately added them into the frame. 

Scorpius signed quickly and Harry was surprised at how easy it was becoming to read. “ _The tree needs a name._ ”

Harry smiled at the boy. “What name do you think?”

Scorpius tilted his head. “ _Something that means life._ ”

“Hm, I’ll have to think about it. I was considering things along the line of Prat, Git, Menace, Pain in the Arse...” Harry looked up and smiled when the shop door opened and Bromhilde Heavyarm, a frequent customer, came in. “I’ll be right back, Scorpius.” The boy nodded, well used to the routine of the shop by now.

She was a tall woman and she wore old fashioned robes better suited to someone twice her age. Bromhilde would never be someone to call pretty but she assumed she was and dared anyone to tell her otherwise. Her late husband had been a pure-blood and rich enough to fund the Ministry if he’d wanted (which he hadn’t) while her family were pure-blood enough but poorer than the Weasleys ever had been. She’d done well in life.

She pointed at a cluster of emeralds and diamonds set in plain gold. It was not one of Harry’s favorites but he’d created it for an older client who’d passed away before he’d finished it and he had nothing else to do but sell it. “MISTER POTTER,” Bromhilde enunciated with all the dramatic flair she could muster, “I DESPISE THIS.”

Harry stood next to her, completely at a loss. “Er-”

“I MUST HAVE IT!” She declared, waving her wand for emphasis as she shouted her desires. “It is simply so.” She stared at him expectantly.

Harry stepped back to avoid being skewered, glaring at the tree to keep still. “But you don’t like it?” Harry asked, just to clarify.

“MISTER Potter,” Bromhilde hissed out, “do NOT argue with me. It is stunning. I will be the COMPLETE envy” she drawled, “of simply EVERYONE at the War Memorial ball.”

Harry pinched his nose and reminded himself to breath. “So you do like it?”

Bromhilde twirled her wand and glared at Harry as if he was the most moronic man on the planet. “No, MISTER Potter, I despise it. Was not that quite clear?”

“Quite,” he agreed weakly. He sighed. “I should warn you the spell on the necklace is one where people are forced to compliment you. They will be forced to speak only nice things to you once you activate the Charm. The earrings are actually just simple health charms.”

Bromhilde smirked. “MISTER Potter, I know.” She clearly didn’t.

“Quite,” Harry said again. He named a price higher than he’d intended for the piece and wasn’t surprised when Bromhilde agreed without bothering to negotiate. He wrote down the activation spells for the jewelry and wrapped them in a nice box as he collected her galleons. She left in a cloud of stale perfume that made the tree sneeze a small avalanche of curling wires.

Harry drew his wand and cast _Accio_ to sweep them into the box of tree sheddings he’d built near the workshop door. 

Scorpius smirked when Harry resumed his seat, then giggled when Harry gently shoved him. “Brat,” Harry told him. “MISTER Malfoy, shall we CALL it an EVENING?” Harry asked dramatically, sweeping his arms over Scorpius as he spoke.

Scorpius laughed silently, clutching his stomach. Harry winked and locked up. “Come and look at what I’m giving your dad.”

Scorpius rolled over eagerly and hurried after Harry into the workshop. Harry opened the vault and stepped inside, reaching behind a box of shield gold (where he knew Draco would never look) and pulled out a small box. He opened it and handed it to Scorpius. Scorpius’s mouth formed a solid “O”.

“What do you think?” Harry asked nervously.

Harry knew it might seem sudden to everyone considering it had only been four months since Harry and Draco had first sat down to dinner, but Harry loved Draco completely. He loved Scorpius and even Narcissa. Harry felt at home with this tiny family and he was afraid every day that one day he would wake up and everything would be gone.

Scorpius smiled and handed the ring to Harry before hugging Harry’s waist, burying his face against Harry’s stomach. Harry released the breath he’d been holding and wrapped his arms around the boy. “Thank you,” he whispered. He closed the box and put it back behind the gold. 

“Shall we go to Gringott’s?” Harry asked, picking up the sack of coins from the week’s sales. 

Scorpius scowled. 

“I know, I hate going out there too.” Harry checked to make sure Scorpius had his necklaces and ring on and then locked up the shop and vault and raised the wards.

Scorpius stuck close to Harry as they took the short walk up the street to the bank. It was staying bright longer and the streets were still busy despite the late hour. Harry said hello to a few friends he passed but didn’t stop since he knew how uncomfortable Scorpius found Diagon Alley. It took only a few moments to deposit the money in the Charmed Occasions account and then they were back outside.

“Ice cream?” Harry asked, tugging on Scorpius’s hand. “We can go to Fortesque’s?”

The boy shook his head and pressed closer. 

“Almost home,” Harry comforted Scorpius. And then suddenly the streets were quiet.

Harry jerked to a stop, whipping out his wand as he cast _Protego_ strong enough to cover them both. Six wizards in white robes surrounded them, their wands pointed and ready. They each had a simple mask over their eyes and cheeks with words written across them that read, “Justice, Vengeance, Retribution, Peace, Righteous.”

Harry scowled and curled protectively around Scorpius, keeping the boy between himself and the wall behind them. “Step aside,” he warned.

“You have betrayed your people,” the one before him spoke. While the others had white masks, his was gold.

Harry frowned. “I haven’t betrayed anyone that I know about and if someone has a dispute with me they can address it through the Ministry or my solicitor.”

The wizard laughed. “We have waited over ten years for reparations from the ministry. And now you are siding with that _Death Eater_ , proving your loyalties have been compromised. Hand the boy to us or die, Harry Potter.”

“Scorpius, go to your father. Now.” Harry ordered. Scorpius, thankfully, didn’t argue. He grabbed the coin around his neck and there was a _Pop!_ as the portkey activated. Unfortunately, the portkey disturbed Harry’s shield and the first curse cut through his arm painfully.

Harry swore and spun away, casting _Protego_ again. There was no time to cast an offensive spell as the six vigilantes began to fire spells at him. Of all the times to leave his home without one of his hundreds of protective charms...he felt the boost of power from his ring of Strength and the stud in his left ear helped him focus. His magic burned as the simple leather tie on his arm slighted boosted it from its reserves before the leather burnt into dust.

“ _Expeliarmus_ ” He shouted, grabbing the wand as it flew at him. He turned to fire a spell and heard the wizard in the gold mask cast _Expulso_. Harry barely managed to strengthen his shield in time to deflect the worst of the curse, but the explosive power threw him back hard against the wall of building. Pain ripped through him and he knew something was broken. His head throbbed and his vision grew dark as he struggled to keep his focus, holding his shield up through will alone. It hurt to breathe and he clutched his chest, activating a healing charm in the small pendant around his neck.

His shield began to ripple as the effect of numerous jinxes, hexes, and curses struck relentlessly against it. Harry tried to think of something, anything, but his mind felt full of Wrackspurts. His Focus Charm was waning. He coughed blood, and brought his wand up, pointing at the nearest wizard as he cast _Flipendo_ to knock back his opponent and then removed his bones.

Now that there was an opening, he got to his feet and ran. He saw the bright green light of the curse strike the wall moments after he’d moved and he gasped, completely shocked that one of the wizards had dared to throw the Killing Curse at him. Another spell broke through his shield and struck his chest hard enough to push him back against the wall again.

Pain filled him completely as he felt like every bone in his body began to shatter. He screamed, clutching his chest as his ribs compacted. The world seemed to slow.

More screams filled the streets and Harry saw familiar faces as Aurors suddenly joined the fray. Spells flew fast and strong and Harry allowed himself to collapse onto the cobbles as he focused on breathing, his mind racing to remember the counter-curse as fire rippled through his fracturing bones.

A hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder and Harry’s wand was under the wizard’s throat before a blink. “Mr. Potter, please,” the voice whispered urgently. Harry cracked his eyes open and saw one of Ron’s Aurors. “I’m apparating us to St. Mungo’s. Hold on for the side-along.”

Harry fainted.

***

“I know, I felt the very same way at first. Persistence is the true key to his heart, you know. He’s a man that admires stubbornness. And beauty. We are both very beautiful aren’t we?”

Harry blinked his eyes and peered around in confusion at the general blurriness of the world.

He heard a sweet melody of chimes and swishes and then a soft chuckle. “Precisely. See, you know all the right ways to push his buttons and you have to be careful not to cross the line between cruelty and attention-seeking. If you want to throw an acorn at his head, do it softly. And stop dropping branches on him. If you break his arm again he probably will mean it the next time he threatens to melt you.”

Harry closed his eyes again, his head throbbing like waves against the hull of a boat. This felt like a dream.

More swishes and chime. “No, don’t worry. He is rather fond of you, even if he struggles to show it.” _Swish swish swish_ “Perhaps. You could give it to him when he wakes up.” A deep sigh. “I love the prat. He’ll wake up. If he knows what’s good for him.”

Harry slept.

When he woke next the room was dark and he saw what he thought might be the familiar stained glass window he had made for his shop window. He sank into the couch cushions, frowning when he realized someone had transfigured it into a bed, and tried to turn his head, wincing when movement meant pain.

“Drink,” came another familiarity, the bossy voice of his lover. He obediently opened his mouth and closed it around the straw, sipping cool water from the glass. “Careful,” Draco said quietly when he coughed.

“Scorpius?” Harry asked, remembering. 

“Fine, perfect,” Draco said, setting the glass of water on the table. “You saved his life again.”

Harry slowly shook his head. “They were there for me this time.”

Harry couldn’t see but he felt the tension in Draco as he hand buried itself in Harry’s hair. “They’re dead. Or will be.” Draco sounded certain of that. Harry didn’t care about their fate if he was honest with himself. 

“How bad?” He asked.

Draco blew out a breath. “Bad enough. Scorpius Apparated to me directly from you and as soon as I saw him I called for the Aurors. They brought to you to St. Mungo’s and oh, Merlin…” Draco swallowed. Harry felt something wet drop onto his cheek and he reached up and brushed Draco’s face dry with his thumb. “If they’d arrived even a few minutes later it would have been too late. Almost every bone in your chest was fractured. It took hours to stabilize your organs and then they had to give you a high dose of Skele-gro. If you need it again, Harry, it will not be as effective.”

Harry nodded. “I know. Do you have my glasses?”

Draco reached out and picked them up from the table, placing them gently on Harry’s nose. Draco looked awful, pale and tired with large bags under his eyes. His hair look as unkept as Harry had ever seen it and his robes were wrinkled and slightly stained.

He looked around and saw his couch had indeed been transfigured in his shop. Draco had his back again the baseboard and Harry was braced against his chest. “Why am I home and not at the hospital?”

Draco shrugged. “You were there for a week and as far as they could tell all your wounds were healed. You just wouldn’t wake up. So instead of moving you to the long-term care ward I brought you home. It was Yggdrasil's idea to keep you downstairs instead of in your flat. There is so much energy down here it seemed like a helpful suggestion.”

Harry blinked, turning his head into Draco’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. “Who?”

“Your tree. That’s the name Scorpius, the tree and I all agreed upon.”

Harry smiled. “Sounds good.” Harry relaxed as Draco resumed petting his hair. “So how long has it been?”

“About nine days since the attack,” Draco told him. “Nine days of my life you owe me, Potter. More really since you scared at least years out of me.”

“Sorry,” Harry told him, yawning. “Love you.”

Draco drew in a sharp breath, freezing. He shivered and breathed out. “I love you, Harry.”

“Happy birthday,” Harry whispered before he fell asleep.

***

Harry snuck into the downstairs library, which considering the size of Malfoy manor should have been an easy task, but Draco had assigned an army of house elves to follow him about and enlisted the help of his sneaky son and mother to help. He peered down both sides of the hall once again before shutting the door. He hurried as quick as his sore body would allow to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder, tossing it into the flames.

The door shut loudly and Harry spun around, relaxing when he saw it was Scorpius. “Hey. Come with me? I have to get Draco’s presents.” The party was tonight. It was to be a small, quiet affair of family and a few close friends and while Harry knew Draco wouldn’t begrudge him the lack of a pretty, shiny present with the cake, Harry couldn’t let it go. 

Scorpius frowned but he must have spotted Harry’s determination because he sighed and nodded, stepping forward to take Harry’s hand. Harry threw in some extra powder and called out “Charmed Occasions” to the flame before stepping through.

He stumbled out and smiled when Scorpius pulled him upright before his face could lick the floor.

“Hello?” a feminine voice called out from the shop. Harry smiled as Lissa’s now purple hair peeked around the door. “Oh, Harry! And Scorpius.” She returned their smiles. “Hello! Happy you’re alive.”

“Thanks, I share the sentiment,” Harry replied. “Just need to grab somethings. Can you turn the forge on?” 

Lissa nodded and did so as Harry quickly gathered up Scorpius’s stained-glass work and brought it over. It took the three of them an hour to finish and then Harry began to cast the spells Scorpius wanted into the piece. 

“Harry, Draco’s head is demanding to know if you are here.”

“Don’t let him through!” Harry said, panicked. “I need another twenty minutes and we’ll be home.”

Lissa relayed the message and returned. “He wasn’t happy but I think the prospect of gifts outweighed the concern of you resting in bed.”

Harry grinned. “Sounds like Draco.” He showed Scorpius how to flick his wand to add another spell to the frame. “Excellent,” he told the boy proudly.

They had just finished wrapping it and Harry had tucked the ring into his pocket and put the three rare potions books he’d found into a large wooden box when the Floo networked opened again.

“Potter, it has been twenty-five minutes. Where are you?”

Harry and Scorpius both rolled their eyes. “Step back, we’re coming through. Bye Lissa! Thank you!”

“About bloody time,” Draco muttered, wrapping his arms around Harry and Scorpius as they arrived back in the manor. His eyes lit up when he saw their arms full of presents. “For me?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Harry told him innocently. “This one is for your mum, and I wanted to give this to the Aurors for all their help.”

Draco scowled and stalked away. “Dinner at eight, Potter.”

“Why is it always Potter when he’s angry with me?” He asked Scorpius, who shrugged and left Harry to work out his own dilemmas.

Dinner was an exciting affair, though Harry was feeling quite tired by the time the cake was served. His chest was still pretty sore from the attack and he struggled to look unaffected, and the extra work he’d done that afternoon meant he had sore muscles as additional punishment. It was worth it though. Draco still noticed and encouraged everyone to eat quickly so he could open his presents.

Though Ron and Hermione had declined the invitation to dinner due to Hugo still being so young, they had gifted Draco with a new Potions cauldron and a stirring rod set. Draco received tickets to the World Cup from Blaise Zabini and Pansy had booked an entire Spa weekend on Nott’s account for the two of them towards the end of the month. Draco’s mother had given him a new broom and adding in a training broom for Scorpius, who seemed both pleased and apprehensive that he’d finally get to learn how to fly. 

Draco and Harry were quick to promise him lessons, though Harry suspected with both of them outside on a broom Scorpius probably wouldn’t get much learning done from them.

Draco immediately fell in love with Scorpius’s stained glass. He told a house elf to hang it over the window near his bed and then he kissed his son and snuggled close.

He looked at Harry expectantly, slowly raising one eyebrow.

Harry pushed the wooden box towards him with a mischievous grin. Draco reached out like Lordling receiving his dues and opened the top. His eyes widened as he pulled out the three potions tomes. “Harry, where did you find these?” He opened the top one and began to browse through the recipes and Harry was unsurprised Draco had no trouble reading the Greek, Latin, and French in which they were written.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. “Here and there.” He rose from his chair and dropped down on one knee, ignoring the shocked gasps around the room as he pulled the ring out of his pocket. It was a moonstone, glowing a milky blue, with two small pearls on either side all set in rose silver. Draco was speechless as Harry carefully slide it onto Draco’s finger. 

“Will you marry me, you pillock? Because you have utterly captured my heart and soul and I can’t imagine spending another day without you by my side. I love you, I love your son as if he was my own, and I love your mother. You are the moon to my sun, the fire in my hearth, and the answer to my dreams. Bond with me, Draco Malfoy?”

Draco swallowed and reached out, wrapped his hand around Harry’s head and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched. He kissed Harry’s nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips with a carnal rawness that shattered Harry and slowly put him back together. “Yes, you git, I will bond with you,” he whispered against his lips.

The two men, one on his knees and the other seated with his son in his lap, never noticed everyone quietly leaving the room They were focused entirely on each other, content to share the happy moment between them. It was a victory of a sort. 

“Oh Nott, darling, can you imagine! Narcissa, we must start planning the ceremony immediately!”

Draco groaned and laughed against Harry as they hugged, Scorpius wiggling free from between them with rolling eyes as he left the room with a secret smile. “Only Pansy.”

“And Hermione. And Luna.”

“Bollocks.”

~fin


End file.
